Light of Dawn
by Merianon
Summary: When Crowley hit Lucifer with the power of a Hand of God, Lucifer found himself no longer alone with just the angel in the mind-scape he put Castiel in. Then when the Winchesters tried to get Castiel back, a new light was shed on what happened... sort of. Now the brothers have to deal with the aftermath while still fighting the Darkness. S11x18 AU [Edited: 3/10/18]
1. Morning Light

**Disclaimer: I most certainly don't own Supernatural or any of its wonderful characters (both the good and the bad).**

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 **Chapter 1**

 **Morning Light**

He had been standing in his Father's throne room. Then he was here – wherever here was. It was a room, full of odds and ends of trinkets. From what he could tell, the room could have been a kitchen. He was standing in said kitchen, and there was another being ( _definitely not Father_ ) sitting at a table a few feet away.

"What is this place?" he slowly asked the man wearing a trench coat. He had never seen such an outfit before, but the knowledge was supplied to his mind by an external base of information.

"You already know where this is, Lucifer." The man had a somewhat deep, gravelly voice, and it may have sounded better, brighter, on any day but this one. But right now, the man's voice was sullen, depressed, and conveyed a want to just sit there without this attempted conversation. The man hadn't turned to face him, continuing to look at the – television? – in front of him.

Lucifer – the man had accurately addressed him as such – took a step forward, a frown coming onto his face. "Who are you?"

"If you're trying to mess with me, then I would prefer you not and actually get back to finding a way to defeating Amara since it seems you haven't yet."

Lucifer found that mildly offensive for some reason, though he wasn't all that sure who this 'Amara' was. He let himself huff in a brief flash of frustration. _What was going on?_ He didn't know where he was, whom he was talking to, and he definitely didn't understand how he got from Heaven to this place, which may or may not have been the future. He drew that possible conclusion from the fact that this man knew who he was as well as several things that hadn't happened yet – last Lucifer remembered anyway.

"I'm being serious. Who are you?"

The man finally turned around, blue eyes staring at him with suspicion and doubt. "What are you wearing?"

"I could ask the same of you," Lucifer shot back, a little defensive of the man's judging gaze. Lucifer didn't have to look down to know he was still wearing his formal archangel attire. Normally, he would be wearing something a bit simpler, but he _had_ been in a meeting with Father. "You know who I am, but you still haven't answered who you are."

"You genuinely don't know," the man muttered to himself. "It wouldn't matter anyway."

"No, it wouldn't," a smug voice called out from behind Lucifer. This voice sounded strangely like his, except it was… darker? Lucifer turned his head to look over his shoulder at this new being. He wasn't expecting a duplicate of himself (well, aside from the clothing – plus, Lucifer's hair was longer).

Lucifer turned to fully face this other persona. "Just what is it that I don't know?"

His look-alike burst out laughing, leaning over as if the exertion was too much. "Oh, that's just perfect," he breathed, an evil smirk plastered on his face. "I'm you, cluser."

Behind all of the shock and disbelief, Lucifer's mind struggled to understand what 'cluser' meant, though he had the feeling that it was a denotative. It took him approximately thirty seconds to process the statement. Whatever was going on – if this was what he would become someday, Lucifer did not want to be _that_.

"Of course, I can't have you running around in here," the other said, tapping a finger on his temple.

Chains sprang up from the floor, snapping to Lucifer's wrists. The chains went taunt and pulled him down onto his knees before he had any time to react. Lucifer refused to call this other being 'Lucifer'. Still, the other walked up to him as Lucifer yanked on the chains, which refused any semblance of breaking.

"You probably got knocked loose from Crowley's little play with a Hand of God," the other continued. Lucifer frowned at both of the names mentioned but remained silent, glaring at the being standing in front of him. "The dog will get what's coming to him, isn't that right, Castiel?"

Lucifer glanced over at the man in the trench coat. He had already guessed that the man was actually an angel (Father had only briefly mentioned the possibility of any form of living creation aside from the archangels and the angels). The man – _Castiel_ said nothing, pointedly fiddling with the TV antenna.

The other him let out a scoff. "Cassie here likes to ignore me for the most part, which is fine by me. He can do whatever he wants, and as long as he doesn't get in my way, I leave him alone. You, on the other hand…" the being's voice dropped to much darker volumes. "Be grateful I'm letting you stay aware."

 **-oOo-**

The Winchesters had tried to get Castiel to cast Lucifer out by forcing Castiel to the front. The angel had barely held on for a minute before Lucifer took back control. However, the younger Winchester noticed a hint of grace flaring behind those blue eyes for moments until that burning red covered it up, and Lucifer was back. To make things even worse, the warding was failing. But now, it was Crowley's turn.

 **-oOo-**

Lucifer still wasn't entirely sure what was going on. And although time was supposedly irrelevant to him, it was starting to get on his nerves. By 'it' he meant being constantly ignored by Castiel no matter how many times Lucifer tried to call the angel's attention – something he suspected was part of the other's doing – as well as not getting any reprieve from being chained to the floor (yes, he was still on his knees, which just added to the annoyance factor).

However, the other _Lucifer_ hadn't been able to keep the occasional memory from providing Lucifer with some much needed – though not all of them had any relevance to which he needed – answers. From what Lucifer could tell, he was several thousand years since the creation of Man. The only downside (or possible upside) was that the memories were all from Castiel, meaning Lucifer had no way of learning what turned him into _that._ Still, it didn't look like humans were all _that_ bad.

Anyway, Castiel had actually taken control of this vessel ( _based originally on one James "Jimmy" Novak_ , Lucifer had gleamed) – though technically, it was more like Castiel was forced into taking back the control. Not that Lucifer could do anything… Well, he had been able to let out a burst of grace that made the other Lucifer back off for a few more precious moments. Then it was back to awkwardly kneeling there with slightly less grace reserved for later.

Castiel had only managed to hold on long enough to recognize whom he had seen (and sort of talked to), which made him slightly more aware in this little slice of his mind. But it wasn't enough for the angel to register Lucifer, even as the other was distracted by gaining control over the vessel once more. And despite the original intention of the spell used, Lucifer found that it had also loosened the chains around his wrists slightly.

Lucifer looked up from examining the chain cuffs to the newcomer ( _Castiel's head was getting full, wasn't it?_ ), recognizing the new guy from some of Castiel's memories. "Castiel?" the demon, who was looking around the room agitatedly, called to the angel.

"Crowley, what are you doing here?" Castiel questioned without turning his gaze towards either of them.

Crowley had a flustered look on his face as he took in their surroundings. Some words passed between the two, mostly about expelling Lucifer – the other one. Lucifer had to wonder whether or not that would expel both of them since they were the 'same being'. Then again, Castiel wasn't exactly aware of him.

Lucifer cleared his throat, hoping to catch the demon's attention before the other showed up (he doubted it would work; so far he had been ignored by the demon as well). Crowley's entire demeanor went defensive as he whirled to face Lucifer. What? So he can call over the demon but not the angel— _Seriously?!_

Lucifer saw his other leaning on the doorway, and he rolled his eyes. "Look behind you," he suggested.

"Did you have to give me away?" the other pouted at him. "Too late anyway." He turned to Crowley. "Really, Crowley? You want to put me back in the Cage? Well, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."

Lucifer sighed in exasperation. It was like watching Gabriel bickering with Raphael over who got to make the next star. "Tell me you're not going to keep him here." His statement was punctuated with a slight rattle of his chains.

"Oh, we're going to have _so_ much more fun than that," the other practically purred. With that, he appeared right next to Crowley, picking up the demon just to toss him across the room – away from Lucifer.

"You second-rate bean counter," the other spat at the demon. He stalked over to pick Crowley up again and tossed the demon onto the table, barely missing Castiel's TV.

"You're going to break something," Lucifer quipped right as Castiel warned the same line. Castiel frowned at that. Lucifer hoped it was because the angel was finally taking note that the other two weren't the only ones there. The other Lucifer had picked up Crowley by the throat, holding the demon in the air.

Lucifer focused on Castiel. He needed to get the angel's attention and then vote of confidence. From what he understood, the vessel held the power of permission and therefore power itself. If Lucifer could convince Castiel to pass the other's permission to him instead, then Lucifer should be able to do something about the other Lucifer.

"Castiel," he called out. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw Crowley struggling. "I can't say I know what you've gone through, and I can't say that I would understand unless you told me. But I get that you're hurting. You feel useless, expendable."

Lucifer tried not to cringe at the flinch that told him he had hit the head of the nail dead on. The other Lucifer swiveled his predatory gaze to Lucifer.

"Cas—" The shortening of the name meant something, obviously. Lucifer had heard it from several memories revolving a man and his brother. "I need you. Not what you can do or what you know, but I need __you__ to _trust_ __me__."

"Shut up," the other snapped, throwing Crowley into a wall with enough force to crack it. "You don't have any say in this."

"Castiel, believe me, please," Lucifer pressed. The other began to stalk over to him. He needed to hurry. "I— _we_ can't kill the Darkness. Not even Father knows how to truly kill her without—"

"I didn't say you could keep talking," the other barked at Lucifer. His – _dare he say_ – 'future self' straight up kicked Lucifer in the face with enough force to knock his head back with an audible _crack!_ , sending his vision swirling dangerously. "You may be me, but you have no idea what you're getting into," the other hissed lowly as Lucifer tried to focus his reeling mind.

"And you've forgotten how powerful the Darkness is." To his chagrin, Lucifer's words came out slurred, and he could feel the metallic taste of blood pooling into his mouth. "Not only that, but you've also forgotten Father's wishes."

Castiel finally turned to look at him, a curious yet confused expression on his face. Relief filled Lucifer for the few milliseconds of reprieve he had before the other rolled his eyes and shoved Lucifer, breaking the chains and sending him flying into the cabinets behind him. Still marginally disoriented from the last attack, Lucifer shook his head to get the debris out of his hair, dust floating down around him.

The other scoffed with a frustrated amusement. "Just who exactly do you think you're talking to? What— you haven't figured it out yet?"

Lucifer frowned, doubt flickering across his face. It was a doubt that flooded through him freezing him in place. Meanwhile, the other strolled up to him, crouching down to eye level.

"You're me, we can both acknowledge that easy enough— What you don't get is that I'm not you from the future. I'm _literally_ you, and vice versa. I think what the cockroaches out there call 'split personality disorder' fits pretty well. You're a moral conscience that I ditched a long time ago."

Lucifer felt lost. It wasn't some alternate form— some future version of himself standing before him, but himself. Anything that the other had done, he had done as well – because they were both each other. And that terrified him.

Suddenly, a race of energy filled him. It began in the center of his grace, spreading out to the ends of his fingers and down to his feet and up through his wingtips. A glance to Castiel told Lucifer that he'd gotten through (well, his other had convinced the angel who the 'lesser evil' was). He looked up at his other with a smirk. Whipping his arms out, Lucifer grabbed the other's wrists.

There was a reason the other had been careful not to touch Lucifer with skin-to-skin contact. And now, Lucifer had all the power. The other's eyes flashed their blood red in fury while, in contrast, Lucifer's blazed a bright icy blue.

"That is why you are lost," he said, turning his own thoughts onto his counterpart as the other tried to jerk away from him. Power was humming around them, light building in a crescendo. "Demon," Lucifer shouted over the ringing. "I suggest you leave and take the humans a fair distance away."

 **-oOo-**

Crowley didn't need this new character to tell him twice to leave. Crowley also found himself following the being's order, quickly moving the Winchesters and his mother out of the church. Dean, of course, looked ready to kill him, but the older Winchester was cut off by the explosion of energy that blasted from the abandoned church. The two brothers shared a look before sprinting back. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Winchesters," he muttered.

 **-oOo-**

"Cas!" Dean called out as he burst through the door. Sam almost rammed into him, Dean having paused in the doorway. It took Dean another second to come out of his stupor.

Cas was kneeling on the ground, looking down at his hands. Dean didn't know what the concussive explosion from earlier was, but he knew it had to do with how Cas— _Lucifer_ 's eyes had flared red one second and then been flooded with a subzero blue the next. Dean wished and hoped and prayed to anyone listening that this was Cas, not Lucifer in front of him.

"Cas?" Dean called again, concern lilting his voice. He took a slow step forward, not giving Sam enough room to enter after him.

The angel's breathing hitched, and he shuddered. A low, pained whine filled the air. Dean recognized the sound as one of loss and hurt. Cas suddenly curled in on himself, shoving his hands to his ears as if to block out a loud noise.

Dean raced over to the angel's side, crouching down beside him. Putting both hands on the angel's shoulders, Dean shook Cas gently. "Cas, look at me." When the angel only shook his head, Dean tried again. "Cas, come on, man. Please."

Cas let out a shaky breath and looked up at Dean. Dean heard Sam warily step back, and Dean loathed to acknowledge that this wasn't Castiel. For his eyes were still that freezing blue; however, his breaths were ragged, and there were tears forming around the edges of his eyes. Those eyes closed once more, and the being shuddered, leaning Cas's head against his knees.

Dean was about to demand Lucifer ( _who else would it have been_ ) to get out of Cas when Crowley spoke up. "I'd wait a moment before you say anything else, Squirrel."

Dean growled at the demon, ready to tell him to shove it when Cas – _not Cas_ – let out another whine and mumbled something in Enochian. "What did he just say?" Dean demanded instead of his original line of thought.

"He _said_ , 'Father, help me; it hurts'," Crowley translated. The demon let his annoyed look drop long enough to put a hint of sympathy into his next words. "This Lucifer is not the one you know."

"What do you mean, this Lucifer?" Sam asked from behind them. He was staying a relatively safe ( _who were they kidding_ ) distance away from the being on the floor, but still close enough to help if needed.

Crowley hummed in thought and then started to pace in a circle around them. "While I was in Cas's noggin, there were two Lucifers: one chained down and the other, the devil we know..."

"And?" Dean prodded when Crowley trailed off. Dean wanted answers. Now. "What makes you say this is the different Lucifer or that he would be any different?"

" _Because_ , Squirrel, our dear Luci alluded that this Lucifer is the one that wouldn't have strayed far from the Big Man's will. 'Moral conscience', he even called him." Crowley stopped in his pacing, having made two complete circles since he had started off. "And last I saw, Cas was letting this other Lucifer have all the power."

"So this is a _good_ Lucifer?" Sam inquired skeptically – one beat ahead of when Dean would have asked the same question.

Crowley shrugged. "I'm not sure, Moose. He's getting a flash mob on crack of all of the Devil's memories."

Sam looked down, somewhat understanding what might be going on in Lucifer's mind right then. "Is there anyway we can help him?"

"Sammy," Dean warned.

"I can make him sleep," Rowena offered, standing in the entrance of the church. "Just for a bit, but I can."

Dean inwardly let off a string of profanities. He knew when he was getting outvoted over something even when they hadn't said anything yet. And Dean wasn't stupid (mainly stubborn); he got the jist of why they wanted to help this 'good' Lucifer. "Fine."

Rowena moved closer, pulling out a knife, which she cut her finger with. Dean shifted over, keeping a very close eye on the witch, to let Rowena do her thing. She began a symbol Cas's forehead, and as she first placed her finger down, his eyes snapped open. Disoriented blue stared deep into her soul. When Rowena finished, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped over. Dean caught the angel's body, keeping it up right.

"Where are we going to take him?" That was Sam getting priorities in order.

"The Bunker— it's safest, and it's the best place we can watch him in," Dean answered.

"Well, I'll be off," Rowena said with a fake smile. "And just for this, expect to be in touch, lads."

None of them moved to stop her from leaving.

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 **A/N: Um, hi? I'm incredibly new to the publishing aspect of reading and writing fanfiction, but I hope I did this justice. I'd appreciate feedback, but you don't have to review if you don't want to. I also hope this is in the right formatting – I'm not used to this, so please tell me if it's wrong. And I don't know if I'm supposed to put disclaimers in every single chapter (if anything I'd prefer for this to count for the entire fan fiction),** **but – hey – it's there.**

Last edited: [March 1, 2018]

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 **Lobita:** Of course ;-)

 **celestflames:** Thanks

 **Avenage99:** You're making me blush XD


	2. A Dusk and a Dawn

**Chapter 2**

 **A Dusk and a Dawn**

Falling, falling. Landing on something cold, solid. Somewhere dark. Thunder crashes in the background.

 _"You're a monster, Lucifer."_

Fire; ice; lightning; hot; cold; burning. A small hope crushed beneath the oncoming force of darkness.

 _"You betrayed me_ _–_ _all of us_ _–_ _and you made our Father leave!"_

Familiar eyes turned strange with the ire now burning within steeled resolve. There is not apathy – nor is the love he knew – in those eyes. There is but anger, a righteous wrath.

 _"I'm a good son, and I have my orders."_

Another set of eyes. Golden orbs that shine brighter than any yellow giant star with their mischief and amusement. But, again, they're not the same. These eyes are hurt – regret and loss fill them.

 _"How could you?!"_

Yet there is a strong determination to combat the others.

 _"Lucifer, you're my brother. And I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks."_

Blue eyes. A deeper blue than his own and so much more vast. These eyes knew the joys and pains of love, both sides of betrayal, knew that devotion was a double edged sword. These eyes knew the road to redemption is not straight or easy or quick, but torqued and hard and may take many lifetimes to truly reach the end.

"Lucifer."

The angel thought himself expendable, a pawn to throw away at a whim. How wrong he was…

"Lucifer."

The voice – Lucifer didn't think it was a memory – was getting annoyed, maybe concerned, most definitely agitated. Something was shaking his arm.

"Five more minutes, Michael," he murmured, swatting at where he figured the hand was.

The hand paused in its attempts in waking Lucifer up. Then— "You must wake up."

 _Not Michael_. As soon as the thought registered, Lucifer shot up from where he was laying down. The result was both he and Castiel head-butting each other. The angel jerked back while Lucifer hissed at the sharp pain emanating from his forehead.

" _Ow_ … Do you normally lean directly over people while they sleep, or was that just for me?" Lucifer muttered, rubbing the sore spot.

Castiel winced as he frowned. "You were having a nightmare."

Lucifer breathed in deeply, running a hand down his face ( _the vessel had been Nick_ , he now knew). "They weren't nightmares, Castiel. They were memories."

"Memories?"

Lucifer lifted his gaze up to the ceiling of the imagined bunker, shaking his head. "They're all jumbled together. None of what I got from him is clear unless something triggers it. I get that I did something taboo, but—"

"It wasn't you," Castiel interrupted him, shifting in place.

"You heard him," Lucifer scoffed. "He is me, and I am him."

"He had no right to claim he was you, nor are you any close to the evil he was," Castiel persisted.

"It's nice to know you're relieved he's gone," Lucifer chuckled mirthlessly. "You realize everything he was and did is up here." He pointed to his head.

"But you are not him," Castiel repeated.

Lucifer huffed. "Not for your lack of confidence, but what makes you say that?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Lucifer. "How do you feel about Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"The two human brothers that are out there?" A nod. "Well… I guess they're okay. I haven't really met them."

"Yet you have— during the Apocalypse that he started. Sam is your true vessel, and Dean is Michael's—"

Whatever else Castiel said was drowned out by a wave of memories, emotions – turmoil.

 _Michael._ Michael was in the Cage. His cage. Alone, like he had been— not him, the other. The other with all of his rage and hate towards them all.

"Lucifer?"

"What?" he snapped at the concerned angel. He quickly apologized for his short loss of temper. "All of this—" he gestured harshly at himself "—just gets… overwhelming."

"From what I understand, you have several thousand years of those memories. Not many would be of being outside of the Cage," Castiel stated, quietly accepting Lucifer's apology.

A silence fell between them, though it wasn't an awkward one. Instead, it was relaxed and peaceful. However, it wasn't long before a thought came to Lucifer. "Do you want me to leave? I'm sure I could make it to Heaven without killing a human, and I doubt the angels would be able to keep me out."

Castiel looked down in thought. "I believe it would be best if you stayed."

"If this is because you think that your expendable…" Lucifer ground out. Whoever put that idea into the angel's head, Lucifer was going to smite them.

Castiel shook his head, though it was obvious to Lucifer that it was still part of the reason. "At the very least, it would be temporary, and with Amara still out there, we will need you."

Lucifer stared the angel down for a long moment before sighing. "Fine, but you're telling Dean."

With that, Lucifer forced Castiel into consciousness.

 **-oOo-**

"Wait— so you're saying that Lucifer, who's still in you, is willing to help out. For real?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel sighed at him. This was his third confirmation to a different styled version of that question since he had explained what happened with Lucifer. At first they had been in one of the guest rooms but had eventually moved to the library.

While Sam looked just as disbelieving as Dean, the older Winchester was just about ready to explode. "What about the Lucifer we know?" Sam asked.

Castiel looked over to Sam. "No longer a problem."

In truth, Castiel didn't really know, but he knew that the two had... merged – for lack of a better term – with this good Lucifer coming out on top. However, because this Lucifer didn't have any of the memories of the past several thousand years, when the two made contact and the merge occurred, Lucifer basically got hit with so _many_ memories that his mind had to block the majority out and only certain triggers would surface them. At least, that was what Castiel and Lucifer had concluded.

"Can't Lucifer help out while _not_ possessing you?" Dean demanded.

Castiel's gaze flicked back over to the older Winchester. "Dean, the only other vessel that would be able to hold him for what we require would be Sam. We all know that you would never agree to that."

"So why does it have to be you, Cas?" Dean's voice was layered with guilt, a self held burden to carry everything on his shoulders. Castiel could tell that the Winchester was angry – not at Castiel, but at himself.

"Because this isn't your battle, Dean." Dean brought his gaze up long enough to lock with Castiel's, and the two held a silent conversation between them, only looking away when Dean caved into the idea.

"Cas," Sam spoke up in question. "Is there any way for us to get concrete proof that he's helping us?"

Castiel felt a stirring in the grace that swirled around his own. He let a small smile adorn his face and then moved over to stand next to a table. "Ask him yourself."

Lucifer stumbled as Castiel relinquished control, gripping the edge of the table in an instinctual act to balance himself. Several of the lights burst as his grace fluctuated from the control change. His frown of confusion faded into one of annoyed chagrin. "Sorry," he mumbled, relaxing his grip that had cracked the wood of the table.

He waved a hand over the wood, letting his grace flow into the material to piece it back together. The finished product looked even newer than the rest of the table. Lucifer shifted awkwardly under the stares of the Winchesters.

"What? I fixed the table," he said lamely, looking down at said object to see if he had missed anything. "Do you want me to fix the lights, too?" With a snap of his fingers, the lights repaired themselves and turned back on. "Stop looking at me like that."

Sam and Dean side glanced one another. This Lucifer still acted marginally like the one they knew, and yet… he was just younger – nervous, less confidant, and in a way, shy. And that was all from the way he was fidgeting with the sleeve of Cas's trench coat.

"It's just that—"

"I'm not what you were expecting," Lucifer finished for Sam, looking off to the side with an odd glint in his eye. "Apologies for anything that I— he did."

Sam finally placed the emotion in Lucifer's eyes. Regret was there, but it was clouded over with an anger directed at himself. "From what we've been told, you aren't all that bad, and I think it's pretty clear that you're not the devil we know." Sam inwardly winced at quoting Crowley, but the phrase was fairly accurate.

Lucifer turned his gaze down, pursing his lips as if he was debating whether or not to ask them something. "If I may ask…" he started off slowly. Sam nodded, prompting him to continue. "What exactly happened to my brothers?"

"What?" Dean asked gruffly. He still wasn't entirely convinced about Lucifer, but the idea was beginning to look like their hail mary.

"I… I know that Michael fell into the Cage with me and that Castiel smote Raphael, but I don't—… I don't recall what has happened to Gabriel."

Sam desperately wanted to lie to Lucifer, to tell him that the youngest archangel wasn't dead by the older's own hands. Sam couldn't tell if it was the worried hope in Lucifer's eyes or the anxious resolve that he had which spurred Sam to tell him the truth, albeit gently.

It scared Sam at how, at first, the shock and horror faded into grief and then into a blank mask. But it terrified Sam when the air crackled with an unseen power – the lights flickering –, and with a predominant _woosh_ of wings and the short utterance of an "excuse me", Lucifer was gone.

 **-oOo-**

 _Gone_. They were all gone.

" _Lucifer, breathe._ "

He shook off Castiel's attempt at calming him down. It hurt. There was a hole in his grace that wouldn't— couldn't be filled. He didn't know what to do. Father was _somewhere_. Michael was in the Cage. Gabriel and Raphael were dead. Lucifer could try to get Michael out of the Cage, but there was no guarantee that Michael wouldn't try to kill Lucifer on the spot, assuming that he hadn't actually gone _insane_.

Lucifer's pacing started to slow as black blurs came across his vision. Was it always this hard to get air into his lungs? He braced himself against the wall of the building he had flown himself to. He didn't know where it was, but for some reason it comforted him ( _Nick's_ _house_ – somewhere in the back of his mind he registered this). His knees buckled, and he let himself slide down the wall.

" _Lucifer, take a deep breath in and let it out slowly._ "

Lucifer physically shook his head, as if that was proper refusal. Short, harsh ragged breaths tried to fill his lungs. He couldn't _breathe_.

" _Listen to me_ _—_ _it will help,_ " Castiel persisted. Again with the persisting.

The archangel forced himself to stop – to take in a deep, stuttering breath and then let it back out. He did this for another minute until he could breathe normally again, not that _he_ needed to breathe. His head dropped into his arms, resting on his knees that he had curled up to his chest.

Even with all of the other's memories, Lucifer had never felt this alone. And it burned. Tears pricked his eyes, and he choked on his next breath. His grace was being torn apart, and he had no way to piece it back together.

" _Lucifer?_ "

"What?" He knew that Castiel was in touch with what Lucifer was feeling and therefore knew 'what was wrong'.

" _It wasn't your fault._ "

"You keep telling me that! But it _is_ my fault. I can remember it as if it were barely an hour ago. He tried to stop me, and I slid his own blade into his heart." Lucifer's voice broke with the last few words, and the tears streamed down his face. "How can it not be my fault?" he asked quietly to no one in particular.

Suddenly, he took off again – passing through so many places: towns, cities, forests, lakes, desert, tundra, prairie; Washington DC; Paris, France; Dubai, United Arab Emirates; Tokyo, Japan; a small island forming around a volcano; a fishing village in Canada; the countryside of Ireland; Berlin, Germany; the Great Wall of China – Lucifer was only in each one for barely a second, but Castiel's mind registered them instantly. And as suddenly as Lucifer flew from that abandoned house, he stopped.

The park was small, quaint. A couple passed by, completely ignoring him – not that he minded. In fact at that point, he could care less if the Darkness ended everything right then. He didn't care. Even if he did defeat the Darkness by himself – which wasn't going to happen – he would still be alone. Sure, there were the few run of the mill angels still in Heaven, but they weren't _them_. Those angels weren't Michael. They weren't Gabriel or Raphael. What was the point of living in a world without those you truly loved?

A breeze blew several leaves past the wooden bench he sat on, and the fluffy white clouds raced in the sky. A normal human would have called this a perfect day to be outside. To Lucifer, it mocked at him just how abnormal his situation was. And so he blocked it all out, letting his head fall into his hands, elbows propped up on his knees, and closed his eyes. Even Castiel had gone silent.

"Are you alright, mister?"

Lucifer's eyes snapped open, and through the spaces between his fingers, he saw a little girl, perhaps no older than seven but not much younger either. She wore a light blue, flower patterned dress with a simple white sweater cardigan over it. Her hazel eyes sparkled with a light only children had, such innocence and curiosity. On any other day, he may have smiled at the way her curled, dark brown hair – which was tied up into twin pigtails – bounced up and down as she climbed up on the bench to sit next to him.

She didn't even bother waiting for an answer that wouldn't have come, turning to look at him excitedly once she had gotten comfortable. "Mom says most adults that don't have kids come out here to think. I've never seen you here before, and Tommy's the only other kid that gets to come to the park to play after school. You look really sad— is it because your dog died? When Gabe died, it was really sad, but he got to go to Heaven—"

The girl certainly had a way of getting off topic quickly, and she hadn't noticed when Lucifer stiffened at the phrasing of the way she said her dog had died. Lucifer shifted his hand to look at her from the side. She had turned back to look out at the park as she continued rambling on, nodding her head right and left as if a song was playing that only she could hear, which wouldn't have been too far off from the truth.

"—and then Dad said that Grammy was in a happy place now. It makes me happy that she's happy, but I miss her pecan pie. It was my favorite. She would let me help bake them with her whenever Mom and Dad took us to her house for Thanksgiving and Christmas…" She had trailed off, her mood clearly dropping. "I don't know what I'd do if Mom or Dad left," she said out of the blue. "I don't have any brothers or sisters like my other friends, and they say that they're annoying, but I think it'd be more fun with a brother or sister. Then we could play together whenever we want…"

"I had a brother," Lucifer said, using the silence she had made when she had trailed off again to finally answer. "I had thousands of them, brothers and sisters, but they're all gone now."

She looked up at him, confusion written all over her face. "What d'ya mean 'had'?"

Lucifer let his hands pull away from his face, sighing and looking up at the clouds as one passed over the sun. "You weren't wrong when you assumed someone had died, but it wasn't my dog."

"Oh… But you still have some family, don't you? Like Mom and Dad?"

"Father doesn't answer nowadays, and I never had a Mother," he informed the girl.

The girl frowned, her serious expression actually looking rather silly on her face. "What about your other brothers?"

"The only one that could help now is locked away— Besides, he'd try and kill me." Lucifer wasn't entirely sure why, but it was oddly easy to tell the little girl his problems.

"But he's your brother." At the very least she tried to give him an adequate response, which was impressive given her age, and her soul was rather soothing to the eyes. Its purity shone with her obvious innocence. He could tell that as long as she stayed true to herself, she would live a long, happy life and ascend to Heaven when she died.

"You're right, but it would seem that we didn't leave off on a very good note."

"But he's family," she persisted, adamant in her answer. The girl's attention was then dragged away to the other side of the park. "Mom's calling— I gotta go. Bye-bye, mister. Hope you feel better!"

Lucifer watched, stunned, as the girl ran off to her mother, who took the girl by the hand and, with a glance his way, directed the girl presumably to their home. His mind had calmed as she talked. Maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Castiel," he murmured. "I hope you're ready for this."

 **-oOo-**

The first change Michael noticed was the presence outside of the Cage. Ever since Lucifer had been summoned away, it felt like the Cage had gone dormant. After all, it was Lucifer's cage, why wouldn't it respond specifically to him? Michael still couldn't leave, which was a given prospect, but he had hoped that maybe their Father would let him out as well, if only to quell Lucifer's destruction.

When they first fell into the Cage, Michael had been enraged, for understandable reasons nonetheless. But after a while – not all that long after Sam's soul had been taken away from this hell hole – Michael finally began to comprehend that there wasn't really anything he could do, and so he had sat down in one of the corners and simply thought (ignoring Lucifer's prodding).

Though he sulked at not realizing it before, Michael had come to the conclusion that this was exactly how Father wanted it. That there would never be an Apocalypse. That Michael never would have to actually go through with killing Lucifer. That the humans could keep Earth the way it was – not necessarily Paradise but, for them, _home_.

Of course, as time passed, Michael continued to give Lucifer the cold shoulder. The older archangel had no interest of entertaining the younger's morbid fancies. But then when the Darkness was released, rattling the Cage, Lucifer had begun to utilize the cracks that had been made. At one point, Michael sent his own message to Sam while Lucifer was resting. But Lucifer had still been released… again.

This presence was achingly familiar – not the one he had become accustomed to during his time in the Cage but the one he had raised and been raised with. One that had been prideful of his family, not specifically himself. Michael felt his grace soar at the hope that maybe… He raced over to the biggest crack, feeling the presence slide over towards it as well.

Still, he waited quietly by the crack. If this turned out to just be Lucifer tormenting him, then he didn't dare get his hopes up and be completely lured into his trap. But as the one outside hesitantly called out his name, Michael knew his hopes were not unfounded. Even then, he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

He had done nothing that would make Lucifer think it would be a good idea to come to him – especially now. If anything, Michael imagined that Lucifer was there only to see if he was still trapped within the Cage. But… The presence Michael felt was so _young_ compared to his company from the Cage.

"M-Michael? I know you're in there— You probably want nothing to do with me, but…" Lucifer let out a desperate, frustrated sigh. His presence was pressed up against the wall of the Cage as if he was leaning against it. "I… Michael, _brother,_ help me, please. I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Something in Michael snapped. He couldn't stand there listening to his _little brother_ pleading to him for help. His little brother that sounded so _lost._ His little brother that was trying to find a way _home_. His little brother that was asking for his help.

"Lucifer," he answered softly, finding himself sitting with his back to the wall directly across from the other's presence. "I'm here, little one. I'm here."

Oh, how Michael's heart broke as he heard Lucifer let out a sob. "I-I can't do this— I can't do what they're asking me."

"You're not alone anymore, brother. I'm here," Michael said soothingly. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that 'they' were the Winchesters. And _they_ were asking Lucifer to take on the Darkness – alone most likely.

Lucifer sniffled. "I don't know how to get you out," he admitted quietly.

Michael frowned. He hadn't expected Lucifer to know a quick solution to that problem, but it would have made things much easier. "We'll find a way, Luce. Together."

Father would know, obviously, but He wouldn't be helping (well, more than He already had if _Lucifer_ was an indication of His involvement). Gabriel had known way, but their youngest brother was dead. And Michael had a feeling that said way was more of a one way trip. Re-breaking the sixty-six seals was out of the question.

Michael sighed, running a hand down his face. It was then that he finally noticed the other presence next – _surrounded by?_ – to Lucifer. "Castiel?"

"He's here," Lucifer mumbled. "He's… my vessel."

Michael hummed in acceptance of his brother's answer. A thought came to him. "Can Castiel hear me?" Lucifer didn't have to say a word, curiosity pulling him out of his fall into depression. Michael felt his brother nod. "Castiel, how did you get Lucifer out of the Cage earlier?"

A pause, but then— "Rowena, a witch…" Lucifer answered for Castiel. "He says we shouldn't trust her."

Michael almost smiled at Lucifer's flippant tone with the last remark. "Then don't. Just have her release me and leave."

He could feel Lucifer hesitate, not wanting to leave his brother's side. "I love you, _mea lux_." That's all Michael had to say to convince Lucifer to go.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for the support of this story. It inspired me to post this second chapter earlier than intended. I've only got one other chapter written besides this – the rest is still being thought out.** _Mea lux_ **is the Latin, Google translation of 'my light'. I also feel like I'm pushing the story a little fast, but the show does that, too, sometimes.**

Last edited: [March 2, 2018]

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 **Guest:** You're welcome~ I'm not the biggest fan because it can get confusing if it's not done right, but two-beings-in-one-vessel stories are great, I agree. I'm glad I was able to make you both laugh and cry. And we will see, won't we...

 **Sonic Key:** Thanks! I will XD

 **Ki guy:** You will ;-)


	3. Daybreak

**Chapter 3**

 **Daybreak**

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean demanded. Castiel fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Lucifer had let him 'take the wheel' to deal with Dean. Rowena had warded herself against basically everything (and specifically Lucifer), so they wouldn't be able to find her without help. Of course, Lucifer knew that Sam and Dean didn't trust him as far as they could throw him, but they did trust Castiel, which left the angel to explain everything in the archangel's stead. It didn't help that Castiel had barely been there a minute before Dean was demanding answers.

"Dean—"

"No, Cas. You've been gone two weeks! _Two weeks_ of going crazy trying to find out if you were okay," Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands about in the air. "You can't just dump _him_ on us and then straight up leave with no answers on his end."

"Cas," Sam called his attention, cutting Dean off from any further accusations. "What Dean means is that we were worried about you."

"I still want some answers," Castiel heard Dean grumble under his breath. The angel looked over to where the older Winchester sat at one of the library's tables, drinking a bottle of beer.

"And I can assure you that I am fine. Lucifer, not so much." He felt the archangel stir in denial of the statement, though they both knew he was right. "Lucifer can't take Amara down without help, and aside from God, he needs Michael the most—"

"No."

"Dean, this is no longer about the end of times. This is about the end of the universe— all of Creation," Castiel told the stubborn Winchester with a steely glare.

"I'm not saying _yes_ to that son of a bitch," Dean growled.

Sam turned in his seat, which was opposite of Dean's, to face his brother. "Dean, we may not have any other choice. No one alive can hold him."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at a suggestion from Lucifer. "Is there anyone in Heaven that can?"

"What are you saying, Cas?" Dean asked, seeing that his friend had gotten an idea.

"Lucifer says that he could pull a soul from elsewhere to act as Michael's vessel in your place."

"I thought you would know about other possible vessels," Sam said, turning back to look at the angel.

Castiel shook his head. "The angels are permitted to know about the True Vessels – you, and the bloodline that you come from – but not all in the line are able to contain the grace of an archangel. And though Adam was used before, I believe the boy should remain in Heaven."

"Adam's in Heaven?" Sam asked, shock exposed on his face.

"He was not in the Cage," was all Castiel answered.

"Michael was in Dad for a bit," Dean admitted quietly, beer bottle at his lips. "But don't think that he'd agree with any of this either. I don't like it at all."

"You're opinion is noted…" he paused, waiting for Lucifer to finish before continuing, "Lucifer wishes to know the specific age your father was when Michael gained consent."

"Why?" Dean huffed.

Castiel bit back a sigh. "It's for a better… connection of sorts. The soul acts as a buffer between the vessel and the angel. Only souls strong enough to hold the angel – archangel in this case – would survive without severe consequences. Lucifer is only able to stay within me because of my time as a human, which allowed this body to become mine own, and therefore makes me the buffer."

"Can you handle that?" Sam asked worriedly.

Castiel frowned, mulling over the answer. "Before, perhaps not. Lucifer's hate and rage would have eventually killed me, but without those to fuel his darker desires, I will be fine."

He felt a warm swirling around his grace that told him of Lucifer's acknowledgment of the odd compliment. Lucifer had been becoming agitated at how slow this was going, but Castiel assured him that he was close to convincing the Winchesters into helping him – both of them.

"I also require Rowena's services."

"What do you need that bitch for?" Dean scoffed.

Sam pulled a bitchface on Dean. "She was the one that let Lucifer out."

"Exactly— She's what started this mess in the first place!"

"Do you really want to go there, Dean?"

"Why are you being so supportive of this?"

"Because aside from direct intervention from _God_ , this is our only shot left," Sam said, standing up and slamming a hand down on the table. "Stop thinking that there isn't a way out of this one. The answer is literally standing in front of our faces, but you refuse to see that this just might work."

With that, Sam stormed off deeper into the bunker.

"1978," Dean said after a long silence. "The year was 1978 when Michael talked to me through Dad."

"Thank you, Dean."

"Don't thank me yet."

 **-oOo-**

 _"I will_ not _bow down to those insects!"_

 _"Why hello, little demon… dear Lilith."_

 _"You know, I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now?"_

 _"Let's just walk off the chessboard."_

Lucifer waded through an onslaught of memories. These were just flashes – brief moments in time – but they hit him like bricks, and he couldn't seem to find an end to them.

 _"It is Father's will!"_

 _"Why can't you just do as you're told?"_

 _"Traitor."_

"Lucifer!"

"Wha—" He jerked upright in a replica of one of the chairs in the bunker. He flailed momentarily before regaining his bearings. Not there – here, in the mind-scape with Castiel. Said angel was giving him a look of concern. "What?"

The angel pursed his lips but didn't pursue his concern. "I have succeeded in obtaining Sam and Dean's aid for finding Rowena."

It took Lucifer a moment longer than it should have to register the words said. "Good— good."

A silence filled the air. Castiel's gaze bore into him. It almost felt like the angel was reading him like an open book— "More memories?"

 _Right on the head of the nail._ "I'm fine." Castiel glared at him, and Lucifer growled in frustration, getting out of chair to stand toe to toe with the angel. "What do you want me to say? That I feel like I'm getting torn into a million little pieces every time the memories start playing on fast forward— That I am a complete mess! I'm practically bipolar at this rate.

"It's too much— There's just too many. An-and I don't know who I am half the time! I'm sitting here one minute, tuning in to the daily Winchester show; then I— I'm somewhere I don't even recognize. Where the hell is Detroit? Who is Azazel, or Cain for that matter? There are so many blanks, but there are too many memories to fill it all in. I've got a billion-piece jigsaw puzzle without a picture. _What am I supposed to do?!_ "

Castiel flinched and took a step back when Lucifer yelled at him with the last sentence. Lucifer looked down, turning away with a quick apology. That silence went up in the air again. Lucifer ungracefully sank back down into the chair, dropping his head into his hands with a sigh.

"You put yourself back together, piece by piece," Castiel eventually answered him. "But you don't have to do it alone… You've got me, and soon you'll have Michael. Maybe you'll even have Sam and Dean to help you one day."

Pale blue eyes looked up to royal blue ones. "Do you believe in that?"

"Yes," Castiel answered in a level tone.

Lucifer took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. At least he had someone that believed in him. He had some hope for the future. And so, he nodded, accepting Castiel's answer. "What's next?"

 **-oOo-**

"Well, well, well… If it isn't the _bloody Winchesters_ ," a Scottish voice rang out behind them. Sam and Dean spun around to face the witch.

They had followed a lead from Crowley, telling the demon about what they were pulling. Of course the demon questioned their sanity, but after a while they convinced Crowley of the legitimacy of their plan and the need of it.

"You said you'd stay in touch," Sam responded with masked wariness. She had to cooperate for this to work.

Rowena scoffed at them. "That doesn't mean you should come running to me when you have a problem," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh, I think you'll help out," Dean told her.

"We need you to get Michael out of Lucifer's cage," Sam continued off of Dean. "Cas says that Lucifer doesn't think he can take Amara on alone."

"Right," Rowena drawled disbelievingly. "Because neither of them will try to kill me once I've run out of uses."

Sam and Dean shared a look. It wasn't like she was wrong, per say. The brothers didn't really know what the archangels would do with the witch after she let Michael out.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Dean said, looking back to her. "Now are you gonna help us or not?"

"Calm yourself, dearie. Of course I'll help, but you owe me this time," Rowena replied haughtily.

"Hell no," Dean instantly denied.

"Dean," Sam muttered under his breath at his brother. "We need her help."

"Not like this," Dean shot back. Then he got a look in his eye. A little louder he continued, "We'll just get Crowley to put that leash back on her."

Rowena scoffed, obviously offended. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, we would," Dean said challengingly.

After several moments of death glaring at each other, Rowena finally let out a frustrated growl. " _Fine,_ Winchester."

And while Sam found himself relieved that Rowena would be helping them once more, he couldn't help the feeling of overwhelming caution at Rowena's begrudging cooperation. The witch undoubtedly had something up her sleeve. They'd been screwed over by her (directly or indirectly) more than once, which Sam knew was one more than enough reasons to just kill Rowena on the spot, but Sam and Dean knew there wasn't a way to do this without her help.

 **-oOo-**

"Well, boys, I've got everything I need here. We're just waiting on that angel of yours," Rowena drawled, not bothering to hide her impatience to get this over with.

Crowley looked up from the pages of a book he was absentmindedly flipping through. "My dear mother does have a point, Moose. Where's the feathered duo?"

Sam cast a glance at Dean, who shook his head. They were all back in the Limbo section of Hell, at the site where Rowena summoned Lucifer the first time. That was where Cas had said they should do the ritual once more. And though Cas had assured Sam and Dean that Lucifer was still willing to help them, it was always Cas they talked to. Lucifer had yet to take over again – that they knew of anyway.

"I'm right here," Cas's voice said from behind them. But Dean didn't have to look at the angel to know it wasn't Cas driving right then. Still, Dean turned with his brother to see the familiar man wearing a trench coat.

"Michael will need a vessel if he's to walk on Earth without instantly killing anyone for being in his true form. I was getting him one," Lucifer continued offhandedly, masking any emotion that he might have been feeling. However, it was clear that the archangel did not want to be there – in Hell anyway. "I had to go to an alternate universe to do it, but there's a young John Winchester ready and waiting in a pocket space I made to make him comfortable until… What?"

Dean felt the way Lucifer's icy stare bore into him. It unnerved him, seeing Cas's eyes look at him like that. It was worse than the way he heard Cas's voice just talk about the subject with such nonchalance (though it was still better than that predatory gaze). Lucifer must have picked up on his unease, and now Dean had to deal with the full force of Lucifer's attention on him.

"What do you mean you had to go to an alternate universe?" Dean asked, making up the question on the spot to cover up his real wonderings and nerves. Sam shot him a look, as if he didn't think Dean would have actually asked something like that.

Lucifer frowned, gaze shifting else where like he was looking at something the others couldn't see, which was probably true, before focusing back on Dean. "You've been to one before when Zachariah sent you to the 'future' during the Apocalypse. Alternate universes are simply other paths this universe could have taken. It's easier to pick off of one of them than to go back in time for my purposes. I chose one in which John Winchester would have died a little under a year before you were born and took him from that universe a split second before his death.

"And yes, Dean. He did agree to this… Once I explained it all." Lucifer looked around the space, eyes landing on Rowena. "Start."

The order was laced with grace. Even if Rowena hadn't already felt the need to just start the spell, she would have been compelled to comply. Besides, she didn't feel like getting her neck snapped again. Unpleasant business, dying was.

Instead of keeping an eye on Rowena, Dean found his gaze locked on Lucifer, who had moved to lean against one of the metallic sides of the overlooking pedestal behind them. Lucifer looked tired, Dean noticed. But tired as the archangel might have been, Lucifer also looked hopeful, like he desperately needed this to happen.

Rowena had placed the same warding on the cell as last time. It was a small precaution that Lucifer had agreed to. He understood that the Winchesters wanted insurance, leverage to keep Michael from outright killing any of them before they had a chance to talk.

Everyone's eyes turned towards the cell as Rowena activated the wards, flames roaring up in a square around the cell, and then summoned Michael from the Cage. Michael wasn't as dramatic in his entrance as Lucifer had been, lowering the height of the flames almost immediately. He had picked Adam Milligan as his visage – his last vessel and easiest to copy at that moment.

"Sam, Dean," he greeted each in turn, stepping closer to the bars separating them. "It's not unpleasant to see you both again." Michael didn't bother waiting for them to respond, his eyes moving past them and to the next two behind the Winchesters. "Crowley and Rowena, I presume." Again his eyes moved away, and this time they found whom they were truly looking for. "Lucifer."

Dean almost hadn't caught the softly spoken name. He found himself looking back to the younger archangel, who had looked away from the cell. Dean frowned at that. He had thought this was exactly what Lucifer wanted. At least, it was what Cas was implying Lucifer wanted.

"Lucifer, look at me," Michael called to his brother. He could see that Lucifer was doubting himself again. Michael needed to finish this as quickly as he could so he and Lucifer could talk privately. He looked down to Sam and Dean when Lucifer wouldn't look at him.

"I ask that you release me. If we waste anymore time, Father knows what may happen," he said to them. "The Darkness is not to be trifled with. I must speak with Lucifer— alone, and then we may begin devising a plan to seal her away once more."

"Sealing her away isn't going to solve this," Sam argued as soon as he registered what Michael said. "There has to be a way to kill her, to finish this."

"It's not that we _cannot_ kill her; it is that we _must not_ ," Lucifer spoke up, averting his gaze away when everyone looked at him.

"Lucifer is not wrong," Michael picked up off of his brother. "It was why she was sealed away in the first place. There is a balance between Light and Dark. Without one, all of Father's creations would be destroyed."

Dean swore violently. "You're saying that someone has to take up the Mark again?"

Michael wouldn't meet his eyes, and Dean spat out another curse. Sam looked down, inwardly swearing to himself that he would never let Dean go through bearing the Mark again.

"We'd have to find a way to seal her first," Lucifer said quietly. "And only Dad has that kind of power."

"Great," Dean drawled. "I'll be sure to let everyone know to start up a God hunt. I'm sure we'll find him in record time."

Both archangels lowered a sharp glare at the oldest Winchester brother.

"Do not speak so rashly against our Father, Dean Winchester. He has already had a hand in this situation," Michael told him in a low voice.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked before Dean could say anything _rash_.

Michael turned his gaze onto Sam. "Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" Sam repeated, looking over his shoulder to look at the other archangel.

"You think that just getting hit with a Hand of God would be enough to knock me loose?" Lucifer asked him rhetorically, already shaking his head.

"What happened to Lucifer had to be directly done by Him," Michael stated. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be let out."

Dean gave a nod to Rowena, who muttered a few words. Not a second later, the flames had been put out, and Lucifer quickly flew himself and Michael to the pocket dimension he had set up. It was a simple yet intricate little place that consisted of several rooms. They landed in the main room – in which a fireplace had two plush chairs sitting beside it, and behind the chairs was a mahogany table with an assortment of food displayed on it. John Winchester was standing by one of the paintings on the white walls that depicted gardens and open fields, one even of the gates of Heaven.

Once Michael had taken John as his vessel, he took Lucifer by the shoulders and made the younger archangel sit down in one of the chairs – he himself sitting in the other chair opposite of Lucifer. "You and I are due for a long talk, little brother."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the reviews; they make me happy. However, from here on out I'm probably only going to be able to update whenever I finish a chapter and look over it, which may be a while (though I have gotten chapter 4 almost done). I've got two weeks worth of a band camp coming up, and I still haven't finished an English paper that's due the first day of school, which is only a few days after the end of band camp; that in mind, I'm still going to** ** _try_** **and update at least once a week.**

Edit Note (12/7/16): You know the drill by now. Still haven't changed anything major plot wise – and I'm still planning to keep it that way. And I'll have you all know that even with the latest episode's spelling of Castiel's nickname, I refuse to spell it that way. For me, it has repeatedly been – and always will be – Cas, not Cass.

Last edited: [March 2, 2018]

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 **bbonin:** I'm glad you are! :)


	4. Amidst the Twilight

**Chapter 4**

 **Amidst the Twilight**

"What the hell?! Where'd they go?!"

Crowley rolled his eyes behind Dean's back. What did the Winchester expect? That Michael and Lucifer would just hang around for a bit before leaving to have their little chat? No, no; even Crowley could tell that the older archangel wanted to have their talk— _now_.

There was something almost painfully obviously wrong with Lucifer – and not just him having to deal with the Devil's memories. Crowley was still wary of being around the archangel, but the doubtful, nervous air that the being had around himself made it much easier for the demon to flaunt while the angel was around. Even then, it was always a good idea to stay cautious around a loose cannon like Lucifer.

"Well, I suppose I'll take my leave," he muttered, grabbing Rowena by the crook of her elbow. He wasn't about to just leave her to do as she pleased.

"I don't think so, _Fergus_ ," his mother hissed at him, yanking her arm away from his grip.

Sam and Dean turned to see what the commotion was. "Oh, you are _not_ ditching us here," Dean growled.

"I wasn't going to, Squirrel. Merely making sure Mother dearest doesn't run off again."

"Then you can take us back to the Bunker."

Crowley rolled his eyes again. "You really want to take _her_ back to the mother lode of information on _anything_ supernatural? Not the smartest thing I've heard from you, Dean."

"I didn't say leave her there with me and Sam. I want you to drop us off."

"I am not a taxi service," the demon said with a glare at the older Winchester.

"Come on, Crowley. Just get us out of here," Sam reasoned. "The faster we leave, the faster we'll be out of your hair for a while."

More like Crowley would be out of their hair, but the Moose did have a point. Crowley grumbled to himself that next time (he really didn't want there to be one) he was going to make the brothers walk.

 **-oOo-**

"Lucifer."

Lucifer felt like a fledgling all over again. This was one of the only things he hated about that period of time. He always hated the nagging feeling of doubt. That he was going to do something wrong. Michael had helped him get over it, and when Father had made the other angels, it had just faded away. But right now, it was back in full force.

He was going to say something he didn't mean to, and then Michael would hate him— _again_. They would have to fight. Michael might kill him, or maybe throw him back in the Cage. And if the latter happened, he'd never be let out again. He'd be alone, and he'd go mad, insane from all the memories—

" _Talk to him, Lucifer_ ," Castiel spoke up from the corner of his mind that Lucifer let him watch from.

Lucifer fidgeted in the seat. Castiel probably hated him, too, deep down. The angel was probably only helping him to make sure Lucifer didn't bail out. He probably thought Lucifer was a coward for backing out of wanting to talk to Michael.

He could see now how it was so easy for the other him to manipulate people. It wasn't hard to use others' fears (or desires) if you knew exactly how they felt from your own experience at one point. What was the human saying? Takes one to know one?

" _As long as you stand up to your fears, face them, you are not a coward for being afraid, Lucifer_ ," Castiel told him. " _And I don't hate you_."

Though Lucifer was grateful for the angel's support, he found it slightly annoying that the angel could read him so well. Then again, it was most likely a side-effect from Lucifer letting the angel be so actively aware.

Michael sighed. "You have to talk to me eventually, Luce."

"I know," Lucifer mumbled, eyes flicking up to see Michael's face for only a split second. But in that second, he saw Michael's small smile.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Michael asked him curiously.

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that. Technically, I did just get you out of the Cage." Lucifer knew exactly what Michael meant; that didn't mean he couldn't avoid the question. He didn't want Michael to know just how much Lucifer wasn't sure about.

"Yes, you did arrange that, and I'm thankful you did. But I know you know what I meant."

Lucifer shifted in his seat. He wanted to leave, but Michael was giving him that look – the one that pinned him to the spot. "I was in the throne room with Dad. It was the day after I helped Gabriel turn all of the marble in Heaven into sugar blocks," he answered in a rush, not feeling the slightest bit relieved once he was done.

Michael looked like Lucifer had just slapped him in the face with a wet fish. "That long ago?" he asked hollowly.

Lucifer wasn't sure what worried him more: 'that long ago' or the shock coming off of his brother (or that Michael didn't say anything about Lucifer's involvement in the prank). He was about to ask Michael just how long ago that was when Michael repeated the three words and started laughing. It was an odd laugh – sounding grateful and relieved but sad, too.

"If it's as you say, Lucifer, you haven't changed a day."

"I dunno. I'm pretty sure I wasn't a nervous wreck back then," he said, avoiding Michael's almost regretful look.

"That's only because you doubt yourself."

"There's more to it than that," Lucifer scoffed.

"I'm sure there is," Michael agreed. "But I think you'll find that self-doubt is the base of a large portion of the problem."

"What is this? Family therapy?" Lucifer grumbled, shifting in the seat again.

From the memories he had seen, Michael shouldn't have been acting like this. Michael should have been at least yelling at him by this point. He was acting like nothing from the past however many years had happened. Even then, Michael was different.

"I suppose that's a way to describe this, though I imagine 'family therapy' would involve a few more accusations and apologies," Michael mused.

"And why aren't there any?"

"Apologies? Well, if that's what—"

Lucifer shook his head. "Accusations— I did all of _that_ , but you haven't said a single thing about it yet."

"No, I haven't, but is there something I should be blaming _you_ for?"

"How are you overlooking several thousand years of all the crap that I pulled?"

Michael sighed. "Did you tell Father you wouldn't love humans more than Him?"

"Maybe… I don't—" Lucifer didn't get any further. Michael had cut him off.

"Did you strip Lilith of her humanity, twist and corrupt her soul until she became the first demon?"

"I'm not—" Again Lucifer was cut off.

"Do you remember how long you were in the Cage?"

"Not—"

"Do you remember starting the Apocalypse?"

"Sort of—" Lucifer was starting to get ticked off by Michael interrupting him every single time he tried to answer.

"Do you remember when Gabriel tried to stop us from fighting, that time right before Father had me cast you out?"

"No, but—"

"Do you remember our big battle being stopped by two brothers and a fallen angel?"

"Stop cutting me off!" Lucifer raged at Michael, getting up out of his chair. The temperature of the room had plummeted near the freezing point – the puffs of air crystallizing as Lucifer huffed in frustration.

"Last one," Michael told him with a glint in his eye. "Do you remember what Father told you that day, the last day that you remembered?"

"I don't—" Lucifer stopped abruptly. What _had_ God told him? Something shared between the two of them in the throne room. Lucifer was stumped.

He remembered going to the throne room because Father had called for him. Father had been waiting when Lucifer arrived and had even been offered to get a first look at some project He was working on. Everything after that was a blur.

 _"Come, Lucifer. I wish to show you something." He snapped His fingers, transporting them to one of the new planets. Lucifer was surprised to see that there were animals of all kinds moving about through the trees and grass._

Lucifer fell back down into his chair, a hand covering his face while his other held a death grip on the armrest of the chair. "Earth— He told me about— He took me to Earth."

Michael nodded. "You flew straight to me right after, and you told me all about it. You were so excited about this new creation Father had made," he recalled with a smile. But then the smile faltered. "Not long after, Father announced His creation of humans."

"I take it I didn't like them." It wasn't a question. They both knew the answer anyway even if it had been.

"No, but none of us truly did either— not really. But when Father told us to love the humans, I was the first to bow down to them."

"I refused. _'How can I love something so beneath us more than Him? How can I love such a flawed thing like that compared to Him?'_ So I didn't." Lucifer pulled the words from somewhere in the back of his mind, buried deep in the other's memories. "But I guess they're more like Him than we are, huh?"

Michael frowned at that, but it didn't seem like he was denying the statement either. Silence filled the room, and the temperature rose back to it's normal status as Michael used his grace to counter Lucifer's short-tempered snap. Lucifer was about to break the silence when Michael spoke first.

"I'm sorry."

Lucifer looked at his brother. "What for? I don't exactly remember enough to hold a grudge against anything you did."

"That doesn't excuse what _I_ have done. I suppose I deserve the state I'm in."

A confused frown formed on Lucifer's face, his head tilting to the side. "State?"

"The Cage did me no favors, Lucifer."

"Michael, what's wrong?" Lucifer pressed, leaning forward in an alarmed concern.

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed yet, though I can't say it's that obvious…" Michael trailed off, a sad smile on his lips.

"Michael—"

" _Look at his wings_ ," Castiel softly said to him solemnly.

 **-oOo-**

Dean already had the pistol up and ready to fire before he recognized the person in front of him. "Don't _do_ that," he stressed, lowering the gun. "I could've shot you."

The being took one look at the gun and then looked back up to Dean. "It wouldn't have been able to hurt me."

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes. "The point is that you shouldn't just pop in out of nowhere."

"It's not 'popping in'. It's flying," Lucifer corrected him, walking out the door and into the hallway.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Dean called out to the archangel.

When it became clear that Lucifer wasn't coming back to answer, Dean set the gun down on the closest flat surface and rushed out of his room after him. It wasn't hard to find him. All Dean had to do was follow the sound of doors opening and closing. Lucifer peered into each room for only a second before moving on to the next one.

"I think the more appropriate question would be 'what am I doing?'," Lucifer said once Dean had caught up with him.

"You looking for a room?" Dean asked. Lucifer opened a door.

"Bingo." He moved on.

"You realize all the rooms down this hall are the same—" Dean cut himself off to change his question. "What _kind_ of room are you looking for?"

Dean took note of the pause Lucifer made before the archangel answered. "Preferably one of a larger size, though it's use should be similar to these."

"Okay," Dean said, processing the information. "How much larger?"

Lucifer seemed to do some calculations in his head. "It needs to be at least thirty-two feet wide, and the length should be the same, though it could be less. The ceiling needs to be a minimum of twelve feet high."

Dean blinked and did a double take on the measurements. Did they even have a room that big? "Oh, uh… Let me ask Sam about it. You're not going to find this room of yours just by opening doors, looking in and moving on to the next one. Bunker's too big for that."

It had taken a whole day before Lucifer had come back to the Bunker after he'd flown off with Michael. The archangel had let Cas take control for the whole two hours he'd stayed, and then he left. In those two hours, Cas had refused to say anything about what Michael and Lucifer talked about, and when asked about where Michael was, all Cas would say was that the oldest archangel needed rest.

Lucifer had come back the next day and stayed a little longer than the two hours of last time. He'd said few words before pushing Cas to the front. It went on like this for the next week until Cas finally made Lucifer talk to the Winchesters. It had been an awkward conversation at first but lightened up by the end. It was safe for the Winchester brothers to say that Lucifer was on their side.

It had still taken another week after that and a few more – some shorter, some longer – engaged talks with Lucifer, but Sam and Dean were warming up to him. They still hadn't seen Michael yet, and they received no explanations for where he was or why he was still away.

And now here Dean was, walking towards the main hall area to try and find Sam so that Lucifer could have a bedroom that was 32' by 32' with a ceiling 12' high… if they had one. They might have to clear out one of the storage rooms and put a bed in it. That counted as a bedroom, didn't it?

"Sam?" Dean called out.

"In here!"

Dean followed the sound of Sam's voice to the library. The nerd was almost always in the room nowadays. "Hey, uh, I need a room—"

"You already have one," Sam said without looking up from the book he was reading.

"Okay, _Lucifer_ needs a room." Sam looked up at that, and Dean gave him the room's required dimensions.

Sam frowned. "We don't have a bedroom that big…"

"Well, we need one now," Dean muttered.

"Uh…" Sam groaned as he stretched, leaning back in the chair. "I guess we could clear out one of the storage rooms, may even have to just use the power plant above us."

"The power plant? Is there even a way up there from in here?"

"Yeah, there's a set of stairs—"

Dean held up a hand, cutting Sam off short. "I don't even want to know."

 **-oOo-**

Lucifer flew Michael to the room Sam and Dean set up in the Bunker. It wasn't the bedroom he'd imagined, but Michael would be comfortable enough. Said archangel eyed the room with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You didn't have to find this for me. I would have been fine with any other room," Michael finally said, sitting down on the bed located in the center of the room.

"I may not be as talented in the healing arts as Raphael was, but even I know your wings aren't ready for being confined for too long," Lucifer said, leveling a glare at Michael.

His brother could be so frustratingly stubborn sometimes – ready to brush off an injury if it calmed the worry of those who cared for him. Well, it wasn't about to work on Lucifer, not with the way Michael's wings were healing slower than either of them expected. And this was something Lucifer couldn't just snap his fingers to make everything sunshine and rainbows.

Castiel had offered an explanation that the reason for the slow healing was because Heaven's main gates were sealed, but then that hadn't explained why Lucifer was constantly at full power and felt like he was in his angelic prime. The three had put it to their Father's doing.

"I'll be fine, Lucifer," Michael assured his little brother, hiding a grimace as he shifted his wings onto the physical plane.

The new feathers were just now almost halfway done coming in, though some of the older ones were still molting. His wings had to be groomed every day because of the molting feathers. And if Michael could have done it himself, he would have, but he couldn't reach certain parts of his wings without maneuvering into a rather odd and painful position. It was easier to just let Lucifer do the grooming. Of course, in order to let them be groomed, Michael had to fully extend each wing in turn while they were both out, which required a vast amount of space.

Lucifer was gentle and caring in his work, his fingers sliding in and out of Michael's feathers like water trickling over pebbles in a stream. Occasionally, Lucifer would come across stray feathers that were bent – sometimes even broken – as he wove the pinions back into alignment. He had to gingerly pluck the ones that were too damaged to leave.

It was odd, seeing what should have been the stunning white color of Michael's wings be overtaken by this new sterling silver. And though it was different, Lucifer had to admit it looked good on Michael. The metallic color was much more warrior-esque than the usual snowy plumage that made up Michael's wings. And the feathers were reflective, kind of like tiny mirrors while still retaining their light, soft feel.

"So…" Lucifer started, hoping to break the silence that filled most of these sessions. "Care to tell me how fine you'll be when we finally face _Amara_?"

"We've already been over this, Lucifer," Michael told him with a sigh. "It will have passed by then."

"And how do you know that?" the younger archangel demanded. "This has never happened before."

"That you know of," Michael informed him.

"What do you mean?"

Michael just shook his head. It was something from the past that should stay in the past. If Lucifer didn't remember, then he didn't need to know. Lucifer didn't need to know that it had happened to him first.

* * *

 **A/N: Lucky for you guys, I finally plotted out exactly how I want the rest of this story to go.**

Last edited: [March 4, 2018]

* * *

 **Deja Vu 22:** I will, and thank you! And no, it doesn't bode well at all, does it?


	5. Blue Hour

**Chapter 5**

 **Blue Hour**

Dean hadn't heard the archangel walk into his room.

He had his headphones on, listening to his music with his eyes closed. He was supposed to be relaxing after a long day of looking at old books. Nothing was on his mind (at the moment anyway; he could let his worries come back after another hour of this), and nothing was getting in the way of this brief respite.

That was, until the celestial being cleared his throat during the lull of sound between songs. Dean's eyes snapped open, a pointed glare already formed and ready to strike its target. But Dean was surprised to see that it wasn't Lucifer he was glaring at. No, it was the other archangel, whom Sam and Dean hadn't seen for weeks.

It was kind of funny: Dean was _almost_ completely fine with Lucifer walking around freely in the Bunker; Michael – not so much. Dean still remembered Michael as a dick with wings from the Apocalypse, and though the oldest archangel might not be hell-bent on killing Lucifer to bring 'paradise' or whatever, Dean sure as Hell didn't trust the son of a bitch. And wasn't that a thought? Dean caught himself trusting the newly reformed Devil over Heaven's ex-General.

"When did you get here?" Dean asked warily, slipping his headphones off of his head, letting them rest around his neck.

"Dean," Michael greeted with a nod. "Your room, I walked into not five minutes ago. The _Bunker_ —" the archangel said the word like he was tasting the sound of it "—I've been in for a week or so." Dean frowned. That was around the time that— "Lucifer thought it best that I not leave the room to wander around… Not until I was ready anyway."

"Wait— that room was for you?"

"Yes," Michael answered, taking amusement in Dean's floundering expression which quickly turned into one of anger.

"You've been lounging in there for the past week— What happened to not wasting time?" Dean accused the archangel. He had gotten up off the bed and pointed his forefinger at Michael. He tried to not let it get to Michael's vessel get to him, though Dean supposed it could have been worse. At least he wasn't looking at the John Winchester that he was used to.

Michael narrowed his eyes at the offending finger pointed at him. "It's not wasting time if the time is used for important matters."

"Right, I'm sure you and Lucifer had a great time fiddling with each other's hair and talking about your feelings," Dean snarked.

"Though we did discuss familial subjects several times, we didn't not 'fiddle with each other's hair'. I think that would suit you and your brother more."

Did Dean really just see Michael's lips twitch into a smile? Just for a split second, mind you, but it was there. And the archangel did not just make a joke. Dean took a step back, running a hand through his hair, stopping midway through the action to put his hand back down by his side self-consciously.

"Well— I don't see you grooming yourself up." Dean stumbled with the come back, but he was able to finish it well enough. "You look like crap."

Dean wasn't wrong either. Angels didn't need sleep, but that didn't stop Michael from looking like he hadn't slept in days – make that weeks. His jacket and shirt were rumpled, and he had a case of bed head. Looking down, Dean also saw that there were a couple feathers lying around the archangel's feet.

"Are you supposed to be shedding?" he asked, bending down to pick up one of the white feathers.

First of all, Dean was pretty sure that he wasn't supposed to be able to see the feathers in the first place ( _Weren't an angel's wings technically on another plane of existence?_ ). Second, shedding feathers didn't sound healthy. Third, this was one soft friggin' feather. It was like picking up a cloud or touching fluffy silk.

Michael made a grim face as Dean observed the feather, muttering something about molting being the correct term. "It's a part of the process," he said, plucking the feather from out of Dean's grasp.

"And the next thing you're gonna say is that everything's just peachy," Dean said with a raised eyebrow. "I think we both know that's bullshit. What's wrong anyway?"

Michael sighed, jaw clenching. "How well can you keep this from Lucifer?"

 **-oOo-**

"Sam?"

The Winchester looked up from the laptop screen. "Yeah, what's up?"

Lucifer paused before responding. "I was going to say the sky, but Castiel tells me it's just an expression. Such a weird way of asking how someone is or if something's wrong."

Sam scoffed as he closed the laptop and set it down, a small, amused smile flitting its way across his face. "So, is there something wrong, or is this a casual conversation?"

Lucifer shifted his weight. Maybe he should do this some other time—

" _Lucifer, you're already talking to Sam. You wanted to do this. Now's your chance_ ," Castiel told him. He hadn't chided Lucifer for wanting to back out, but Lucifer could hear the slight disapproval of the thought.

"I wanted to apologize," Lucifer blurted out before his willed up nerve to say it abruptly vanished into nothing.

"Apologize for what?" Sam asked, frowning.

"It only came up once, but…" Lucifer trailed off, gathering his thoughts so he could word this the way he wanted it.

It had taken a while, but over the last couple of weeks, Lucifer had gotten Castiel to tell him the Winchesters' story. Ever since releasing Michael from the Cage, Lucifer didn't have any memories trying to drown him, which had left him at an impasse. And so Lucifer had resorted to bugging Castiel until he finally caved.

Of course, Lucifer knew that he hadn't been the… nicest being in the universe before _that_ happened. With the memories that he had gotten and all of the implications from those around him, it wasn't that hard to figure out. But when Castiel finally finished the tale of the Winchester brothers, Lucifer was floored.

After being overwhelmed with the need to apologize to Sam (maybe Dean at some point, too – Lucifer didn't like the older Winchester as much as he did the younger, which might have had something to do with the true vessel thing) for the crappiness of Sam's life in general as well as his role in the Apocalypse, Lucifer found himself standing in front of the Winchester. Lucifer told Sam so.

"Well, uh…" Sam seemed to be at a loss for words. Lucifer wasn't sure if he should take that as a good thing or a bad one. "Thanks, I guess."

" _It was a good thing_ ," Castiel informed him. Lucifer felt a spike of irritation at the comment. He knew that.

But now Lucifer was left standing there with nothing else to say. Then a glorious idea came to him. "Sam, you remember what happened when I took Dean back to 1943?" he asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

Sam blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Um, you couldn't make it past the hull of the sub, and…" Realization dawned on the Winchester's face, and Sam ducked his head down to at least partially mask the smile that was forming. "You got drenched."

"And your brother didn't," Lucifer said, excitement growing. "I think it's only fair he gets a turn."

" _Lucifer, no._ " Lucifer mentally stuck his tongue out at the angel.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't think you want to start a prank war with Dean."

"It's only a bit of fun," he said innocently.

Sam looked down at the wooden table, a finger lightly tapping on his laptop. "We really should be focusing on taking Amara out."

"She's not doing anything. Besides, Michael and I can't do anything about her at the moment," Lucifer pointed out. Just a little more, and Sam would—

"Fine, but don't do anything that could hurt someone," Sam said, pointing a finger at the archangel. "And don't forget to clean up any mess you make afterward," he added as an afterthought.

Lucifer's smile just broadened.

 **-oOo-**

Dean stepped out into the hallway only to be hit by Hurricane Katrina. Okay, maybe not an actual hurricane, but Dean was pretty sure he tasted salt in the water dripping down his face. He was soaked to the bone.

One blink. Two blinks. He wiped a hand down his face to get rid of some of the water. Another blink.

"What the absolute _freaking_ HELL?!"

His eyes snapped to the direction that a certain snickering was coming from. Oh, it was _so_ on.

 **-oOo-**

"Lucifer, what did you do?" Michael asked his brother as the latter finished grooming the last of Michael's wings for the day. His wings were finally done molting, but the new feathers still needed direction as they grew in.

"Nothing serious," Lucifer answered plainly.

Michael seriously doubted that. "Lucifer."

"I may have to be careful around Dean for a bit, but other than that I'm good."

He narrowed his eyes at the younger archangel. "Is it something I need to look out for?"

Lucifer hesitated. "No…"

"Brother, you may be a master manipulator, but you're a horrible liar."

Lucifer pursed his lips. "I wasn't lying, and it's not as if I like lying. There's no point in it."

"What am I going to do with you?" Michael groaned. "I know you did something to Dean. I can hear his cursing from here."

"I know right," Lucifer said with a smirk.

Michael frowned, turning to the other archangel. "It's not funny."

"You didn't see his face."

 **-oOo-**

"I am going to pluck every single one of that devil's feathers out," Dean fumed. He was finally dry. It had only taken about ten minutes to get a change of clothes and dry himself off, but that was ten minutes of meticulous plotting and another hour of cursing up a storm.

"I don't know, Dean," Sam said, hiding his smile being the laptop screen. He had to admit, Lucifer's _prank_ was pretty good. And besides, they needed a few laughs. It would do Dean good (Sam, too) for a couple healthy distractions. Sam would even go out on a limb and say they could even serve as an odd form of a morale boost.

"Come on, man— You're supposed to be helping me out here."

Sam wanted to stay neutral in what he knew would become a very elaborate prank war, but he had somewhat taken a side when he gave Lucifer the metaphorical thumbs up to drench Dean. Plus, Dean would need all the help he could get against the archangel. He sighed. This really wasn't fair, for either of them.

"I'm going to regret this," he muttered.

 **-oOo-**

"This is all my fault," Sam groaned, covering his eyes with one hand while combing through his hair with the other.

"How so?" the archangel beside him asked, eyes wide with no small amount of concern as he took in the carnage the room had suffered.

"I gave Lucifer the okay to start this. I didn't think it'd escalate to this— or this quickly," Sam admitted, not daring to take another peek at the room. "And Lucifer was supposed to clean up his messes."

Michael bent down and picked up an empty bottle of ketchup. "I don't think this was one of Lucifer's."

Sam snuck a quick look at the bottle. "But I thought Lucifer hadn't done anything yet. Dean got him with the glitter only yesterday."

"Lucifer must have retaliated without us knowing," Michael observed. "It worries me, what my brother must have done for Dean to strike back with _this_." He gestured to the scene, and with another wave of his hand, cleaned it up.

"I thought Gabriel was the trickster of the family," Sam grumbled, stepping out into the hallway.

Following Sam, Michael raised an eyebrow at him. "Where do you think he learned all of his tricks?"

" **SON OF A BITCH!** "

Sam and Michael shared a look, and then took off racing to the garage. Sam found himself caught between just standing there in shock or flat out laughing. Michael just stared.

Dean was seething, hands curled into to fists with his arms shaking at his sides. In front of him was the Impala. The Impala was pink – neon, hot _pink_ … with rainbow flower patterns… not to mention it was also covered in sparkly glitter. Not even the freaking inside had been left untouched...

"I am going to murder that jackass— You hear me! No one touches my baby!" Dean shouted. He suddenly spun, jamming a finger at Michael. "Where's your brother?"

Michael blinked at the demand. "I don't know."

Dean growled and then stomped off down the hallway, muttering to himself about "kicking that sorry archangel's ass until he turned Baby back". Michael sighed in exasperation. He excused himself from Sam a moment before flying off with his newly feathered wings in search of Lucifer.

Though he rejoiced in being able to fly freely again, Michael's joy was overclouded with apprehension of just how far Dean and Lucifer would take the prank war. Said war needed to stop – _now_.

Michael found Lucifer in his room, but it wasn't Lucifer that was in control of the vessel at that moment. "Castiel, let me talk to Lucifer."

Castiel was already shaking his head. "Lucifer knows that Dean will wait until he has taken over to do whatever he has planned." Castiel frowned. "Please tell me you're going to tell Lucifer to stop."

"I'll do something even better," Michael said, directing his gaze to the larger and brighter Grace inside of the vessel. "Lucifer, promise me that you won't prank anyone in this bunker anymore, or there will be _severe consequences_."

A moment passed, but then Castiel's frown morphed into an expression of relief. "He promised."

"And he won't find a loophole if he knows what's best for him," Michael muttered, walking out the door to go find a quiet spot in the Bunker. He got the feeling that only Sam would be able to talk the older Winchester down.

Then he paused. He should probably go change the Impala back first.

 **-oOo-**

Lucifer eyed the glass in front of him warily. The liquid inside the cup seemed innocent enough. He looked back up to the human that had shoved the drink towards him. Sam had supposedly talked with his brother, and Dean had called this a peace offering. Lucifer briefly wandered if Michael had told either of the brothers about his resignation on his participation with the pranking.

"Just try it, will ya? If you're anything like Sam, you'll love one of these things."

Lucifer wasn't stupid. Sure, he'd just gone through a rather childish phase, but that didn't lower his intelligence. There had to be something different about this _smoothie_. Castiel was being strangely silent.

The archangel inwardly growled in frustration, staring the smoothie down. If he didn't drink the smoothie, Dean might take the action as a disregard of the 'peace offering'; however, if he did drink it, Father knew what might happen. Dean could have mixed the worst flavors possible into the stupid drink sitting ever so innocently in front of him.

Slowly, Lucifer reached out for the glass and pulled it closer towards him. He was an archangel – the worst thing several bad flavors could do would be to leave a horrid taste in his mouth. He glanced one more time at Dean before taking the straw into his mouth and starting drinking the icy concoction.

Dean was very grateful for his years of experience at having a poker face. It was the only reason he didn't have a grin on his face right now. He wasn't entirely sure what the hell the potion (that's all the sheet was labeled as) was supposed to do, but the footnote said it would make an angel loopy.

The sheet had randomly showed up on his nightstand the day after Lucifer drenched Dean. At first he thought that Sam – or even Michael – might have put it there, but it soon became obvious that they didn't know about the paper. The hardest part about making the potion would have been getting an angel feather. But Michael had left a few feathers lying in random spots around the Bunker, so really all of the ingredients were easy enough to find in the Bunker.

He was going to save it for a rainy day, but when Sam came to him, telling him to stop with the prank war, Dean knew he could only fit in one more trick. He wasn't sure why, but something had pushed him to use this.

By the time Lucifer had finished off the drink, Dean was starting to grow concerned. There was a difference between being a 'little loopy' and 'drunk off your ass'. When Lucifer straight up giggled, Dean leaned back in his chair, shock and horror battling for being the top emotion.

"I'm so screwed."

"And why would that be?"

 _Shit._ Dean turned in his seat to see Michael standing behind him, arms crossed and a stern frown on his face. Dean took one glance to Lucifer, who was looking up at the kitchen light with a lopsided grin, and pulled out the sheet of paper, handing it to Michael.

The archangel's frown deepened as he read what was on the paper. "Where did you get this?"

Dean told him. Damn, if Michael wasn't intimidating when he wanted to be. It didn't help that it was a young version of his dad that Michael had taken as a vessel.

"Hey, what's…" Sam trailed off, having seen Michael glaring Dean down and Lucifer giggling to himself. "What's wrong with Lucifer?"

"I got an archangel drunk, Sammy," Dean halfheartedly cheered with a partial smile and a small shrug. The glare Michael was giving him deepened.

Sam's predominant emotion was confusion. Lucifer was— "You made— How did you— _What_?"

"He gave Lucifer a specific mixture of certain ingredients that greatly decreased Lucifer's inhibitions," Michael ground out. "The mixture was not used often in Heaven for obvious reasons, though it was brought out for special occasions and even then it was very small amounts. This—" Michael gestured almost violently to the paper "—creates a rather strong dosage."

"Making Lucifer effectively drunk," Sam concluded to himself. "Right… Um, is he going to be okay?"

Michael's expression softened. "He will be. Just give it a few hours, and then he'll eventually sleep it off."

As if on cue, Lucifer piped up, "Michael, you look funny." His words were slurred but still comprehensible. He squinted at Michael and then at Dean. "Why are there two of you?" His gaze eventually drifted over to Sam. "There's another me, too."

Michael rushed over to the other side of the table to hold Lucifer up as the latter started to lean a little too horizontally. "Come on, Luce. We're getting you to bed."

"But it's not even five yet!" Lucifer whined, head lolling to the side.

Michael draped one of Lucifer's arms around his shoulders, holding on to it, and secured his other around Lucifer's waist. "This conversation isn't over," he said pointedly at Dean. With that, the archangel took off, leaving the two humans staring at the new empty spot where the other two had been standing.

"Lucifer's going to kill me when wakes up… isn't he?"

"You think," Sam huffed. "Just be glad Michael didn't smite you on the spot."

Dean shot a questioning glance at Sam. "Was it really that bad?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're such a jerk."

"Bitch."

 **-oOo-**

"I miss them."

"I know," Michael said softly, brushing a stray hair out of Lucifer's face. Michael had taken them to his room. He was sitting on the bed next to Lucifer, who didn't have the trench coat or suit jacket on. Michael had also made him take off his shoes.

"They're gone. They're all gone," Lucifer sniffled. After almost an hour of Michael having to deal with a giddy Lucifer, the younger had gone into a depressive state.

"I'm still here, Luce."

"It hurts," Lucifer murmured, squirming in his spot.

Michael's eyes flicked down to Lucifer's face. "Where?"

"Right here," Lucifer said. His hand had reached up to point at Michael chest, right over his heart.

Wrapping an arm around Lucifer's shoulders, Michael pulled his brother closer, and Lucifer relaxed against the touch. "It'll be okay. I promise."

"Is that a promise you can keep?" Lucifer's head was starting to droop down, eyes closing.

Michael didn't— _couldn't_ answer.

"See? No one's safe from her, and they're not coming back…"

Michael frowned, looking down at Lucifer to see that he was already asleep. Slowly, so he didn't wake him back up, Michael maneuvered Lucifer to where he was lying down on the bed and tucked him in. Then he stood up, moving back to sit down in the chair next to the bed.

He let out a quiet sigh. They were getting nowhere in trying to find a way to seal the Darkness away, sans their absentee Father stepping in. It had been almost impossible the first time, and back then they'd had their brothers and God with them. And though this time they had some new allies, Michael couldn't help but let Lucifer's words worm their way into his thoughts.

* * *

 **A/N: Yeah, so there was more fluff than usual, but I couldn't not let Lucifer prank Dean. The way I see it, Lucifer is a BAMF archangel half the time and 5-year-old child the other half (proportions may vary due to certain events). And earlier I did have it mentioned that Lucifer helped Gabriel out with a prank.**

Last edited: [March 7, 2018]

* * *

 **Deja Vu 22:** ... no, it wasn't Gabriel, but you're in the right, general direction of thinking. And I will (try to) keep it up!

 **lobita:** Why thank you XD

 **Guest:** Yes, the prank war was very fun to write. (And, yeah, Dean totally deserves to get chewed out, but to be fair he really didn't think it would do that to poor Luci.)


	6. Alpenglow

**Chapter 6**

 **Alpenglow**

'Green' _would be the first word you'd use to describe this place. The trees, the grass, the bushes, the leaves of the flowers – all green. And it wasn't all just_ one _shade of green. No, there was possibly every shade of green there ever could and would be in this place. Of course, the rest of the colors and all of their hues were there, but green stood out against the wholeness of the blue sky; the absolute shade of red that made the roses; the singularity of the orange fruits; the golden awe that shone from the sun onto the plants; the bark on the trees; or the lavender wonders that were the lilacs._

 _The second word would be_ 'perfect'. _There wasn't a single thing out of place here. Everything had a reason, a meaning to be – each a piece of the whole puzzle, making a magnificent picture. This was a place of total harmony made from raw Creation. This place was the exact center of Heaven. This was the Garden._

 _A brunette came rushing out into the glade, looking over his shoulder when he ran into an older man. The brunette was knocked back onto the ground with an '_ oof _', and as he shook his head to get a leaf out of his hair._ _As he_ _looked up, he tensed. A nervous smile made its way across his face._

 _"Hey, Dad," he greeted, rubbing the back of his head in sheepish motion._

 _"What were you doing this time, Lucifer?" He asked with a knowing smile. He held out His hand to help His son up._

 _"Well, you s_ _ee—_ _" the archangel took the proffered hand and continued to explain why he had come racing into the Garden, though he knew that his Father already knew._

A small smile rested on Lucifer's face as he watched the scene play out. It was a good memory. A nice one.

"What is this place?"

Lucifer's smile twitched, growing a little more before settling back to what it had been. He wondered if the angel knew he had repeated what Lucifer had asked him when they first met. He didn't turn around to greet Castiel, preferring to keep his eyes on the memory. "Heaven, before the other angels were created and before the Leviathan— but not too long after we locked the Darkness away."

Lucifer sensed the way Castiel's eyes widened at his answer. The angel must have finally realized whom exactly the two figures in the memory were. They stood in silence until those in the memory walked away, both smiling, happy.

Lucifer couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt that something was off about the memory. Nothing was different about what was said or done… it had to be a minor detail, but he wasn't sure what it was ( _The wings_ _—_ _his wings; they weren't always that color_ ). And Lucifer definitely wasn't about to tell Castiel about it.

A breeze swept through the memory of the Garden, creating a swaying motion with all of the plants, the leaves rustling in a symphony of noise. A fluffy white cloud passed by overhead. When the breeze faded, the sound followed, and all was silent. The memory had paused in a standstill moment.

"That was Him?"

Castiel sounded awed. Then again, Lucifer thought to himself, the angel probably had never met Him… at all. "A _long_ time ago, but yes. That was Him. Of course, He's definitely had a few facelifts since then. You don't stay hidden this long without changing what you look like and putting on a suit."

"We can't take on Amara without Him, can we?"

Lucifer sighed, his smile dropping. "Not if we don't want to lose anyone, no."

"He didn't come for the Apocalypse. What would make Him come for this?"

"That is the question, isn't it…" Lucifer bit his lip. "He always has a plan for everything, but it's usually just a plot outline for the story. The human 'free will factor' kind of screws over any master plan.

"He knew Sam and Dean would stop the Apocalypse— some way or another, just that they would. He was probably there the entire time, giving them a push every once in a while… So I imagine that He's given us everything we need to fix this, though He still has something up His sleeve, something we'll have to figure out on our own."

"You've thought this over rather thoroughly," Castiel muttered.

Lucifer let himself smirk, looking over at the angel. "I just know Him a bit more than the others— Well, back then I did anyway."

Castiel gave him a look. "That's more than anything Metatron would have told me about Him."

"That low class secretary may know our Father, but he'd never know Him as we did," Lucifer scoffed.

"You and the other archangels?" Castiel asked. Lucifer nodded. "Were there any other angels that knew Him that well?"

Lucifer pursed his lips in thought, moving to sit against a tree trunk. "Of the few among the first angels created, one sticks out, but I doubt she's still alive. She never would have let this happen."

"As in she would have killed Sam and Dean—"

"No, no! Nothing like that." Lucifer waved away the thought. "She more likely would have helped you in the civil war you had with Raphael, though she wouldn't have agreed with you opening Purgatory."

"Not many did," Castiel muttered bitterly.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I just— Never mind, forget it. Anything else you want to know before I wake up?"

Castiel frowned. "Why? What happens when you wake up?"

"I get to live through a splitting headache, courtesy of Dean," Lucifer answered with an irritated eye twitch.

"How are you not being affected here?"

"Not sure— but this is my dream world. Reality has a different set of rules. So if that means that I'm not in the middle of a hangover, it's fine by me," Lucifer said, shrugging. "That it?"

"Just one more thing. When this is all done, if we've taken Amara out of the picture, what will you do?"

"I think when Sam asked me that I answered that I'd 'go to LA, solve crimes'. Doesn't sound like a bad idea— But, really…" Lucifer trailed off with a sigh, looking into the distance. "I think I'd like to go back to Heaven with Michael, help rebuild and all that jazz."

Castiel nodded in understanding. "That's all."

Lucifer gave the angel a mischievous smile. "Have fun— you're taking the wheel first."

 **-oOo-**

Castiel hadn't been as affected by the drink as Lucifer had. Maybe it was because Lucifer was the one to intake it, but Castiel still felt the slight aching pain behind the back of his eyes (really his whole head in general). That being said, Castiel avoided looking directly at bright objects and kept his sight on the physical plane.

Dean had earned the cold glare Castiel gave him. That didn't stop the Winchester from ironing shirts.

"Hey, when you're done being mad at each other, I think I found us a case," Sam said, walking into the room, holding a tablet in hand. "Where'd Michael go?"

Castiel frowned while Dean shrugged. "I thought he was with you."

Sam shook his head, and Castiel could feel Lucifer touching the line of higher awareness. The angel winced as his headache increased, but it was worth letting the archangel know what was going on.

"He's an archangel; he can take care of himself," Dean said, putting the beer bottle he was holding down on the table next to the ironing rack. "And please tell me what you got is on Amara."

Sam handed his tablet to Dean to show him the article. "Yeah, well— uh, Hope Springs, Idaho. A guy named Wes Cooper killed himself after killing a co-worker. According to the reports, though, nobody knows why. Apparently he was a perfectly happy guy, and then... snap."

 **"** So, what? Possession?" Dean asked, momentarily looking up from the tablet.

 **"** Or he was soulless," Castiel interjected, having stepped over to glance at the article.

 **"** It ain't much, but given what we got, I'll take it." Dean gave the tablet back to Sam.

"Yeah," Sam said, adding a short nod.

Dean handed Sam the shirt with a small smile and a short "here you go" before walking away.

"Thanks..." Sam shot a quizzical look at Castiel, who pointed a finger at the beer bottle left on the table, and sniffed his shirt. "Dude, quit ironing my shirts with beer!" Sam yelled after Dean, leaving the room to follow his brother.

 **-oOo-**

"We _just_ missed Him," Michael scoffed, fists clenched at his sides.

The town was saved. It was a miracle by His hand. It felt like a turning point. He should have come back, and yet He was still absent.

"I know," Lucifer said.

He held up the amulet Sam had let him borrow. It was only for the moment, enough to show Michael. Then he'd give it back to the Winchesters. The 'Samulet' was glowing – albeit faintly – but it was warm too. They really had just missed Him.

Michael barely took a glance at the ancient charm. Instead, he swiftly turned and punched the trunk of the closest tree. The wood splintered and cracked upon impact. Groaning, the tree fell over, leaving Michael breathing heavily from the restraint keeping him from doing the action again to anther tree, him arm still cast into the air.

Birds had flown away at the archangel's rage, chirping and cawing to one another in a panic as they took off. The tree had made the ground shake as they collided, though the mountain remained unmoved.

Lucifer waited until Michael had calmed himself down slightly to talk again. "He saved the town to let us know He's still here. That He's watching."

"And how does that help us?" Michael snapped, eyes blazing with barely restrained fury.

"Michael, I get that you're angry, but that also means you're not thinking clearly. You need to calm down before you destroy the entire mountain," Lucifer advised calmly.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Lucifer," Michael growled.

"Then don't act like a child," he retorted, knowing exactly how much of a hypocrite he was for saying the words.

He could feel the itch to vent his frustrations clawing away at him just under his skin, but he kept a lid on it. And he kept it away from Castiel. The angel didn't need to be near the festering rage that was building inside of Lucifer at that moment. Lucifer would visit the Arctic later on in the day, or the Antarctic… maybe both.

The Winchesters had told the archangels to stay a safe distance away from the town when they realized that the killings were Amara's work. The human brothers had been smart enough to make the archangels promise. And so, all Michael and Lucifer could do as the fog swept through the town was watch.

Lucifer had slipped into the Impala as Sam and Dean headed out of the town to ask what happened, though he knew what his Father's work looked like. The miracle had left a kind of aftereffect, which kept the amulet shining for another hour afterward. But He was gone.

"So Amara's got a thing for Dean," he commented, trying to steer the topic to something less volatile.

"He was the one to free her," Michael huffed. "It would explain why she might feel indebted to him. We already knew this."

Lucifer put his hands together, lining his fingers into a steeple. "But now we know he isn't affected by her little fogs. He can't be infected. I'm guessing Dean could also call to her, draw her in, distract her even."

"The connection works both ways. He can't bring himself to hurt her while in her presence, and he's drawn to her, in a way. So Dean could distract her, yes, but he could be distracted in turn," Michael countered.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I was just sayin', Michael."

"This is pointless!" Michael fumed. "We have nothing that will stop her. Hell is currently more populated with demons than Heaven is with angels. A few dozen demons and barely twenty angels won't do a thing against her!"

"I think you're excluding a few beings."

"Whom I am excluding is God!" Michael burst out. "Because _Someone_ is just watching from the sidelines while we're playing the game. You, who told us to love Your greatest creation more than You! Guess who I'm loving more right now," he shouted at the sky.

"Well, if you wanna put it that way," Lucifer muttered, sighing. "Why don't we look at it Raph's way: in the event that Dad was dead – not taking into account all of the balance issues that would make – what would we do now?"

Michael crossed his arms, forefinger tapping on his bicep. "In that event, we would have no way to seal her away again, and there would be no point in not killing her because _Father would be dead_. Even then, we wouldn't be able to kill her without an army of distractions while we came in to _try_ to smite her."

"So, we need an army," Lucifer declared with a clap of his hands. They were getting somewhere. "Where do we get an army?"

"Heaven and Hell are both too low on availability, we'd need more than just them— as I said before," Michael stated.

"Okay, so think outside the box, Mikey. What other supernatural forces can we use?" Lucifer loved this part of planning a battle. As Michael's brother, Lucifer was made to help him, and watching Michael answer Lucifer's guiding questions filled him with an electrifying joy.

Michael pursed his lips at the question. "The witch, Rowena. She may be able to help us."

"Anyone else?"

Michael blinked. "Sam and Dean?"

"Yes." Lucifer gave a giant nod of the head. "Now, do we have any weapons that might be useful?"

"You may have some items from your crypts—" Michael started, continuing over Lucifer's "I have crypts?". "—and I believe that Heaven's armory has most of the weapons returned there. Do we have anymore Hands of God aside from the Horn?"

Lucifer frowned at that. "I get the feeling that those aren't going to do much to her."

"Then why are you asking me this?" Michael threw his hands up in the air, letting them drop back down to his sides exasperatedly. "There's no point in planning something that won't work."

"Don't worry, Michael," Lucifer told his brother with a small smile. "I've got an idea."

 **-oOo-**

" _It's insane, Lucifer._ "

"Yes, I heard you the first time, Castiel," Lucifer said over the roar winds of the storm he created while venting. He didn't have to talk to Castiel out loud, but it was more comfortable to do it that way.

The blizzard that Lucifer had created was a way for Lucifer to not only release his frustrations in a form suiting his grace but also to refreeze the polar ice caps. Two birds with one stone, right?

" _Dean already tried talking to her. It won't work._ "

"Dean doesn't know the Darkness like I do." Lucifer started trekking a little higher up the mountain of ice. This was one of the highest peaks in the area. If he reached the top, he'd be able to see above the clouds and maybe catch the sunrise.

" _Like you know Father?_ "

Lucifer paused. "In a sense," he answered.

He breathed in deeply, the ice cold air biting his nose and lungs. When he released the breath, he watched as the warm air crystallize instantly in the subzero temperature of the Arctic. Technically, he shouldn't have been able to see with the snow whiting everything out, but he was an angel. He didn't see only on the physical plane.

He briefly wondered if he should fix the ozone layer above him since he had already frozen over the Arctic to form new ice caps. If he didn't fix the layer, the ice he had created would just melt all over again. Snapping his fingers, he refilled the needed atmospheric layer with ozone.

" _It's suicide_ ," Castiel reiterated.

"Tell me something I don't know." Far beyond the horizon, the sun was rising. It would have been a beautiful sight if it weren't for the blizzard.

" _You're not going to tell them, are you?_ " It wasn't a question.

"Nope."

 **-oOo-**

" _Aren't you at least going to say goodbye?_ "

"That would let them know something was up," Lucifer responded, brushing the purple petals of the michaelmas daisy that he held in his hand.

" _Then why are you holding that flower?_ "

"Call me sentimental, or poetic— either one works, I guess." Lucifer laid the flower down on the bed.

 **-oOo-**

The Bunker door slammed behind him with a loud _thud_. "Hey," Dean called out to Sam as he came to the railing. "You seen Cas or Lucifer?"

Sam looked up from the war room table he was set up at. "Uh, no. Why?"

"Well, Michael popped up behind me while I was in town. He said he hasn't seen Lucifer since Hope Springs," Dean told him, coming down the stairs.

"Did he check the room?"

"Yeah, he said he found this." Dean held up a flower, passing it to Sam. "We don't know what it means, but Michael figured you might."

"This is a michaelmas daisy," Sam said, shooting up out of his seat. He walked into the library, skimming the spines of several books until he found the one he wanted. Sam then moved over to one of the tables and set both the flower and the book down, Dean standing slightly behind him.

"Back in the Victorian era there was this re-cultivation of a form of communication called the language of flowers. Each flower, sometimes even by the color of the petals, had a specific meaning," he explained as he quickly flipped to a certain page and then read aloud, "The michaelmas daisy, _Aster amellus_ … farewell."

Sam and Dean locked eyes.

"We need to find Lucifer— now." Sam merely nodded as Dean called for Michael.

* * *

 **A/N: Well… uh, I don't really know what to say – not about the story anyway. On other notes, school starts in a week and one day (I know that for a fact now, and I'm supposed to get my schedule today).**

Last edited: [March 7, 2018]

* * *

 **lobita:** We have a club?

 **Deja Vu 22:** Aw shucks, you're making me blush. But really, thank you for these reviews. They make my day and inspire me to keep writing.


	7. Midnight Sun

**Chapter 7**

 **Midnight Sun**

He was going to step in. He really was – _honest_ – and He did… sort of. He saved the town of Hope Springs, Idaho. That counted for something, right?

Metatron had underlined and highlighted a certain fact: Chuck had, at some point, given up. But He hadn't given up entirely. And that was why He hadn't stepped in yet. He still had one fail-safe left.

And though He felt a stab of regret (and guilt, too) as He sat in the bar, listening to His sons, He knew He couldn't let Himself interfere until the breaking point.

 **-oOo-**

"Of all the people, I didn't expect for you to call me."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lucifer called back to her, ignoring the way she stalked up to him. If this was going to be one of his last moments in existence, he was going to enjoy the view. "Personally, I think it's kind of ironic to have something called the Devil's Pool with a scenery like this."

Amara was standing directly behind him now. "What is this, Lucifer?"

"A talk, chat, conversation, _tête-à-tête_ , meeting— take your pick," he said, watching as a heron flew by. He looked back at her and gestured to an open spot next to him. "Come on, have a seat. The sun will be setting soon. I hear that when the light hit the waterfalls' spray just right, the whole place lights up."

She didn't sit down. "What's wrong with you?"

Lucifer refrained from sighing, looking back to the waterfalls of Victoria Falls – or _Mosi-oa-Tunya_ as the locals called it – below him. How often had he gotten that comment recently? Maybe not to his face, but surely it was implied. "We've all changed. It's been a long time, Amara, but not so much for me."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Ah, nothing really," he brushed off. "Though I guess it would account for my 'wrongness' as you put it."

"Next to God, _you_ I would have a vengeance against most," she told him.

He shrugged. "Can't say I would enjoy that," he admitted. She started to glare at him. "What?"

"You wanted to talk; do so before I find something more… entertaining to do."

He held up a hand. "Wait for it."

The sun set, casting its rays through the valley and setting the waterfalls to a glorious dance of golden fire as the water of the Zambezi River cascaded down to the bottom of a hundred meter deep gorge. He let several rainbows catch his eye, even seeing a double rainbow. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Lucifer took in a deep breath.

"And that was one of Dad's wonders."

"That," Amara scoffed. " _That_ was just light reflecting off water. How was that a wonder?"

Lucifer shook his head. "You didn't see it."

"See what?" she challenged him.

He sighed. "Look at it—" he gestured to the whole valley with both hands "—look at all of it. Every little detail and how each one makes up the big picture."

"It's still just one of God's creations," she deadpanned. "What's _special_ about it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" she repeated with a scoff. "Then why show me this? What was the point?"

"None!" Lucifer exclaimed. "But that'd mean there'd be no point in destroying the place. What's the point in destroying any of it?"

"Because then I'd finally get His attention," she said, staring him down with one of her smug looks. Suddenly, she transported them somewhere else. The power plant, Lucifer noted with not a small amount of wariness. "What? You think I didn't sense you or your brother loitering about the place?"

"Well…"

With a swift motion of her hand, a force slammed him into one of the walls, pinning him there. "I let you indulge with your little attempt to distract me. You couldn't seriously have thought that would work. You can't stop me."

"I was kind of hoping you would stop yourself," he retorted with a strained voice as he tried to move.

She shook her head, as if disappointed by the comment. "And why would I do that?"

"You're going to make me start repeating myself?" he asked rhetorically. "There's a beauty in all that He creates. Your revenge plot/cry for attention is keeping you from seeing it, and trust me I've been there. It doesn't work out."

"The last time I trusted you, I was sealed away for eons," she snarled, and he grimaced as the grip pinning him to the wall tightened.

"And you think that once everything is gone, it'll just be you and Him? That you'll have His full attention?"

"Exactly."

Darkness plunged into him. He choked back a yell of pain as the cold tendrils flooded through his grace. He focused on pushing Castiel down as far as he could. The angel didn't deserve to suffer through this with Lucifer. He shielded the angel as numb nothingness enveloped him.

It was cold, dark, void.

 _"This kind of fail-safe... You're the only one that can pull it off, Lucifer."_

His Father's voice was a warmth and light in itself.

 _"I'll have to bury you deep. You won't be the same."_

He remembered that.

 _"The transformation will run its course over time_ — _can't have it too abrupt. That's too obvious, though the trigger back will be a bit more notable."_

It was His plan. This was the last part before He Himself would come. He had planned it from the beginning.

Lucifer gasped as the darkness that had flooded him receded. His lungs hadn't liked the exertion of screaming and then not having enough air to keep doing so. Breathing ragged, Lucifer tiredly slid his eyes up to look at Amara. She was looking at him murderously with anger and confusion, holding her hand close to herself as if he'd burned her.

"That all you got?" he taunted.

Her face contorted into a snarl, and she threw her hand at him again. It shredded into his grace this time.

 _"This is a gift and a curse, Lucifer. Use it well."_

Lucifer knew that, and it hurt.

 _"No, no. No one else will know, not even you. But when the time comes, all will reveal itself."_

It was kind of funny: only He knew until right then. The ultimate goal. Everything had lead up to this, hadn't it?

Lucifer felt drained. His eyelids were heavy, and he wanted to just sleep. But something was keeping him from slipping into unconsciousness. Not just Amara's hold, but the need to keep Castiel safe, too.

She wasn't so far away from him now, only a few feet of distance between them. She flayed him alive.

 _"Just know that Michael will learn, too. He'll protect you."_

Michael had learned. They all had. But where was Michael now?

Lucifer couldn't see— wait, no, that was because his eyes were closed. He could feel the small trickle of blood running from his nose, and his eyes were stinging from the bloody tears that ran down his cheeks. Not to mention metallic taste in his mouth. At least the red life-liquid wasn't coming out of his ears.

He groaned as he forced himself to look up at her. She looked a little worse for wear – it made him wonder how bad he looked. Not good, he imagined. How long had it been anyway?

"I know you can do better than that," he said, spitting out some of the blood that had been pooling in his mouth.

Amara thrust her hand into his chest, burning his grace from the inside out at her touch. His true voice broke through as he screamed.

 _"I'm sorry, so, so sorry."_

She pulled back abruptly, but the damage was already done. She had heard the last words of the memory. Those words that everyone wanted to hear.

"Brother, what did you do?" she whispered as she stumbled back.

 **-oOo-**

Chuck's grip tightened on His mug.

 **-** **o** **Oo-**

Lucifer slowly slid down the wall, crumbling in on himself. He struggled to keep himself conscious. His grace was flickering dangerously. He could feel Castiel rising out of where Lucifer had shoved him down.

Concern spiked through the angel's grace. It was soothing, how Castiel's grace swirled around the tattered remains of his own. " _You're dying._ "

Lucifer gave a mental huff. It was as close to a response as Castiel was going to get. Everything hurt too much for any specific train of thought. He let out a wheezing cough, which made blood splatter on the front of the trench coat. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stay awake…

His mind wandered as Amara yelled at the sky to her brother, demanding to know if this was what He wanted. Lucifer wondered what it was like, afterward, when an angel died. At least most of them could all say they went out with a bang – an explosion of grace, that is. Maybe he could get out of this like one of those Disney princesses. All he would need was—

"Lucifer!"

Huh, talk about princes coming to the rescue. Michael wasn't exactly whom Lucifer had in mind, but beggars couldn't be choosers. And at the very least, Lucifer wouldn't be alone when his grace finally gave out. He opened his eyes.

A blurred Michael was steadily making his way across the open space of the main room inside power plant. Sam and Dean were standing at the doorway behind the archangel. Though they both looked determined and confidant in their stance, they all knew the two human brothers couldn't do anything against Amara.

Lucifer felt himself slipping as Castiel took over. " _Rest, Lucifer. Reserve your grace… You'll be okay._ "

The archangel didn't argue. He was already gone.

 **-oOo-**

Chuck watched silently as the figure in front of Him slept in a rather uncomfortable position that wasn't good for the back – not that it would have mattered.

The figure stirred from his sleep, shifting where his head lay on his arms in an attempt at trying to get comfortable. When that didn't happen, he stifled a yawn, leaning back in the booth to stretch. Several of his bones popped from the movement after being still for so long.

The all-white athletic jacket the figure had on was a little rumpled from being slept in, and Chuck knew that the light blue shirt that he had on underneath the jacket wouldn't be in a different state, though the khaki pants would be relatively unwrinkled. The figure's light gray tennis shoes completed the outfit.

Pale blue eyes fluttered open, peering past the drape of light auburn brown hair that had fallen over them in his sleep and gazing at his surroundings. He pushed his hair back, fingers combing through the wavy curls, and away from his face, revealing the smile on his lips. "Hey, Dad."

Chuck's expression softened. "Lucifer."

"I get that You might be feeling a bit nostalgic, but did You have to pick a teenager?" the brunet asked, looking down at his hand as he flexed the appendage.

"You did that, not me," Chuck corrected. Amusement was clear on His face as Lucifer frowned.

"What in Creation drove me to make the form I'm wearing a teenager?" he pouted, crossing his arms. A stray strand of hair fell in front of his eyes, and he glared at the rebellious strand before blowing it out of his face without touching it.

"Probably because of your grace. You're younger than it remembers," He answered. "Besides, I think it suits you."

Lucifer put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "No," he gasped, "it couldn't possibly be! I'm more mature than any fledgling." Chuck raised a perfect eyebrow. "Okay, _fine_ , but really— I look way better in Nick or Castiel's vessel."

"This is your true form, Lucifer. You can change how you look whenever you want," Chuck said, letting a small smile grace His features.

"I know." Lucifer propped his head up with his elbow on the table, not changing a single thing about his young form. Those ice blue eyes swept up and down His body. "Nice suit by the way, very modest. Chuck Shurley?"

"Yeah, thanks. Metatron said it was a sad, little meat suit."

"Metatron should've taken a look in a mirror," Lucifer retorted with a sniff, getting up to take a full body stretch. "Oh, yeah… that feels good," he groaned as he worked out all of the kinks. "What? Getting burned from the inside out was not fun."

"I'm sure it wasn't," Chuck agreed. A sorrowful air fell in the room.

"This _is_ a dream, isn't it?" Lucifer asked, not oblivious to the mood shift in the bar. "I mean, You're here, and that's great and all…"

"But I'm not actually there," Chuck finished. "That doesn't mean I'm not with you."

"Thanks for the moral support, Dad, but last I checked, I was at Death's door," he said, sitting back down. He conjured up a bottle of water, not to drink from it but to entertain himself. He tossed it high up in the air, watching as it did a few flips in the air and letting it land perfectly upright on the table with a soft _thud_ before picking it back up to repeat the process (though at a different height).

"You might want to check again once you get back."

Lucifer hummed a note. "What about that part when Amara stepped away that first time? She kinda looked like she got burned…"

"That would have been because of the warding I put around your grace to keep her… influence from affecting you again."

"Right… So, You gonna let me have my wings back, too?" Lucifer asked hopefully, pausing momentarily in his little activity.

"All in good time, Lucifer," Chuck said, smiling when Lucifer huffed at the familiar phrase and then continued with tossing the bottle in the air.

"I take it that You'll be showing up soon. Michael would _love_ that. He's pissed at You, you know." Lucifer didn't take his eyes off the bottle as he said the words, immersed in his game.

Chuck shrugged, and Lucifer set the bottle down on the table.

"And Aunt Amara?"

Though it was subtle, Chuck tensed. "What about her?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, giving Him a look. "I, of all people, know that You don't want her sealed away again."

"So?"

"Go talk to her," Lucifer suggested. He rolled his eyes when Chuck didn't say anything. "Come on, Dad. You heard what she wants— it's what everyone wants: an apology and Your attention."

"You think that she'd listen to a word I have to say?" Chuck scoffed, crossing His arms. "In terms of siblings, she's the elder, the big sister. She'll roll her eyes like you just did, and then she'll exact her revenge."

Lucifer's eye twitched when his Father called him out for rolling his eyes again. Still, he leaned forward with elbows on the table. "That's what Michael and I are for. We'll make sure she can't do anything while You do Your thing, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. I'm the one that made the plan up in the first place."

Lucifer slammed his hands down on table enthusiastically. "Then let's do this."

"I can't in good conscious let you go through with the plan while Sam and Dean are within consequential distance of you being in your true form," Chuck told him.

"W-well…" Lucifer stammered, not expecting that. "Uh, just send them back to the Bunker and give them ear plugs or something then. Oh! I know— You could even have Castiel take them."

Chuck shook His head, but He was smiling. "I think you're forgetting something else."

"I am?" Lucifer inquired, tilting his head to the side.

"Do you want to remember?"

Lucifer blinked. His Father was asking whether or not Lucifer wanted the memories of the other him. He looked down. "Don't You already know my answer?"

Chuck sighed as His son clammed up. "I'm getting different vibes off of you, Lucifer. On one hand, I can tell you want to know everything you did without having to ask another, but on the other hand, you feel like you'd be better off as you are."

"Am I better off?" Lucifer asked quietly.

"You don't have to answer just yet, but it's something to keep in mind," Chuck told him.

Lucifer nodded, finally looking back up at Him. "So, what else have You been up to?"

"Well, I did this stint where I was a prophet of me. That was fun— front row seats. I traveled, started a blog—"

"Blog?"

"Yeah, it's this— just let me show you." Chuck snapped His fingers, there was a computer in front of them.

Chuck showed Lucifer almost all of the pictures on His blog. He told Lucifer about His travels, briefly mentioning His books, how He preferred to be called Chuck nowadays (though He would still respond to 'Dad' or 'Father' – just not the G-word), even strummed a few notes on the guitar that He had on the stage. They talked a little bit about the plan, tweaking it marginally, adding details, but in the end, Lucifer still had to go. He had a job to do.

"And, Lucifer?" Chuck called to him as he took hold of the bar door's handle.

"Hmm?" Lucifer turned around, looking back at his Father.

"I'm proud of you."

* * *

 **A/N: A little shorter than any of the others so far, but stuff happened. On other notes, my reviews went from matching my favorites to my follows (from 9 to 11). Thank you, Deja Vu 22 and lobita (and everyone else who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story- it makes my day when you guys/girls do).**

Last edited: [March 7, 2018]

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 **Lobita:** Ah, I get what you mean by our little club... a review of the following, you could say.


	8. Sunrise

**Chapter 8**

 **Sunrise**

Sam and Dean raced over to where Cas – _Lucifer? did it matter anymore?_ – was slumped over on the far wall as Michael took on Amara, keeping her attention away from Sam, Dean and his brothers. Power crackled around the room, electricity and fire snapped and scorched the floor but stayed within a circumference of the archangel and his Father's sister. Reaching their friend and ally, the human brothers remained untouched by the dominating displays of the primordials' strength in the room.

"Cas? Lucifer?" Dean called to the unconscious form, giving his shoulder a good shake. "Come on, man. One of you guys say something."

Sam could tell Dean was worried – hell, he was worried, too. The most noticeable thing was the blood ran from his eyes, nose and mouth, splattered onto Cas's signature outfit; and that didn't even cover the burns and other wounds that littered his body. Sam, Dean and Michael had only figured out that Lucifer was even in the power plant when Michael heard him screaming in his true voice. Michael had flown them to the power plant, and now they hoped they weren't too late.

"Dean?" Cas – and it _was_ Cas (they could tell the difference after interacting with both of them all these weeks) – groaned, squinting up at the Winchesters.

Dean maneuvered himself to be crouching over Cas, hand clutching the angel's jacket lapel, eyes still roaming over his form, assessing the damage. "Dammit, Cas! Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question, Sam thought to himself. It was obvious that the angel wasn't okay, but Cas nodded. "Lucifer pushed me down far enough to where I didn't feel any of what Amara did to him," he told them, a frown creasing his forehead. "I told him to rest, but I can barely feel him..." Castiel trailed off, frown deepening. " _Lucifer?_ "

 **-oOo-**

He was in the library of the Bunker in Castiel's mind-scape. At least he was sitting in a plush chair. He didn't think it would have been very comfortable to be in one of the wooden ones. His grace was still frayed at the edges, but he wasn't dying anymore. And he looked like Nick again.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, breathing deeply to control said breathing. "Dammit, Dad, it still hurts."

He knew his Father was probably smiling at the way Lucifer was complaining. Lucifer had been kind of surprised when he had 'woken up' to see Him, though with the recent release of memories, he had expected a meeting to happen at some point. Some point not being right then, though – in a way – it had been good timing.

" _Lucifer?_ " Castiel's voice echoed through the space as he wasn't actively within the mind-scape. Lucifer could feel the way Castiel was inspecting the new state of Lucifer's grace.

"Yeah," the archangel acknowledged, biting down on his lip when his grace made its soreness known at Castiel's prodding. "I'm good."

" _No, you're not,_ " Castiel observed.

Lucifer ignored the comment. "Where's Michael?"

" _Currently facing Amara,_ " the angel answered. " _See for yourself._ "

The Bunker setting around him faded into the power plant. Michael and Amara both had their hands spread out as if reaching to one another. The air was crackling with power. And though Michael currently holding out on his own, it was becoming clear that he wouldn't be able to keep it up.

At some point, Sam and Dean had moved over to where Castiel was still lying, slouched against the wall. The human brothers had positioned themselves almost protectively over the angel/archangel, and both were glancing back and forth between Castiel and the Michael versus Amara scene.

"Castiel, I'm going to need you to take the Winchesters back to the Bunker, and don't let them leave until I come get you," Lucifer ordered the angel.

" _You're leaving?_ " The angel sounded a touch dismayed.

"I have to get into my true form, little brother." Lucifer rarely used the term with the angels, reserving it for Raphael and Gabriel, but Castiel had earned the title. A thought occurred to Lucifer. "You know what— let me take the wheel for a moment."

Lucifer let a moment pass after the feeling of gaining control over their motions. Then he cleared his throat. Already, he could tell his voice was going to sound hoarse. "Sam, Dean… Close your eyes."

He allowed his grace to shine through the vessel's eyes as the Winchesters looked at him and then obliged. As soon as Lucifer left Castiel, the angel flew the humans to safety. Lucifer had to compact his true form to even fit in the building and then compact it even further to get to the point of being able to speak without blowing out the windows. He'd probably still fry a human's eyes out, but he did have a corporeal form – as slightly uncomfortable as it was.

Both Michael and Amara paused in their assaults to watch as Lucifer made his re-entrance. Lucifer looked down at himself. Apparently, he was back in the teenager… Whatever.

"Hey, Michael, get those shiny new feathers ready, will ya?" Lucifer had almost forgotten what his true voice sounded like. Whenever this was over, he was going to talk for days.

In sync, Michael and Lucifer spread their wings. If it had been anyone created after them, they would have been scared shitless by the imposing figures the archangels were making. But this was Amara, and she had faced them before.

And then Lucifer felt the shift in his wings. Gone were the pearl like pinions he had been using, traded back out for the ones that were next to his Father in terms of Light. It was a seamless change. This had been designed, especially with the way Michael's wings were now reflective.

Living up to his name, Lucifer let his Father's Light flow through his wings, and with Michael's help, the light filled the room in all corners until there wasn't a single shadow. Amara was stuck here, and though she wasn't powerless, she was severely weakened. She wouldn't be trying anything.

Lucifer's grace cringed at the exertion, but he should be able hold it long enough for his Father to talk with Amara, who was apparently talking.

"You expect to hold me here forever? You don't have the power for that."

Lucifer shook his head. Satisfied with his and Michael's work, he called to their Father.

 **-oOo-**

Chuck waited for them in the library. He had His mug with Him. He liked this mug: _'World's Greatest Dad'._ Though He had been gone a long time and the words on the mug were a sore reminder of that, it also reminded Him of what He left behind. It was a bittersweet prospect.

For every troubled, bad memory with His sons and creations, there was a least two more good ones to outnumber them. Of course, bad memories usually ruined the good ones. Where He used to see His children laughing playfully and running through the halls of Heaven, He would see the destruction wrought by the first war between Heaven and Hell. He would see the grief, sorrow and anger caused by Lucifer's rebellion.

But then Lucifer's rebellion part of the Plan. Okay – not all of it, but Lucifer was supposed to set everything in motion. His son had even agreed to it, not that Lucifer would have remembered that until just little while ago. And he hadn't agreed out of the unequaled love for his Father. It had been because Lucifer understood. Just as Lucifer had always understood Him, deep down buried beneath everything that made him who he was.

Before the Darkness twisted what Lucifer was, he had been more like Him than any of His other angels – archangel even. Chuck had put more of Himself into Lucifer. Lucifer was made with part of His Light. God wasn't supposed to have favorites, but perhaps Lucifer's uniqueness was what made Him favor the Morning Star.

He had given all of the angels a unique trait of their own. Some were minor things, but others stood out. A few names instantly came to His mind at that thought. Castiel was definitely one of them. Chuck had rooted for the little angel during the Apocalypse, and He knew the exact number of times He had rebuilt Castiel – unlike what He had sputtered out to Metatron.

Chuck sighed.

If there was another thing He wasn't supposed to do, it would be to hate. But He hated the intricacy of His stupid plan. Yes, He did just call His own plan _stupid_. What had He been thinking when He thought it up? There were too many ways it all could have just fell through.

And yet, here they all were.

"Sam, Dean, Castiel," He greeted each in turn once they gained their bearings.

They all looked at Him – shocked, stunned, maybe both. Dean came out of it first. "Chuck?" he asked incredulously.

"Yup," He affirmed, setting His cup down and waving a hand. Castiel was still staring at Him with a dumbfound expression; he wouldn't be helping the Winchesters take the final step in figuring out who He was. "Oh, uh, check your pocket."

Dean gave Him a 'why the hell should I?' look before fumbling with his jacket pockets. He and Sam kept looking back and forth between the glowing amulet and Him.

"Father?" Castiel asked brokenly.

Chuck gave him a soft smile, and then snapped His fingers, healing Castiel and cleaning him up. "I thought I'd just drop by real quick before I go see my sister. Lucifer thought it'd be a good idea to keep you guys out of harm's way, and I kind of have to agree."

"Now hold on a minute—" Dean started, but Chuck held up a hand, cutting the older Winchester off.

"We shouldn't be more than an hour, so just, uh, wait here. Try not to freak out," Chuck told them. Lucifer was calling Him. He needed to go.

He didn't even have to think about it. He was just there. From the Bunker to the completely whited out, main interior room of the power plant. His sister was standing between His two sons, glaring at them with a predatory gaze like a pissed off lioness in a cage. Not a completely off comparison.

Chuck held His hands behind His back, thumbs twiddling together. Clearing His throat, He caught their attention. "Uh, long time, no see."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Him, which He shrugged to. Michael had only taken one look at Him before focusing on Lucifer, blatantly ignoring Him. And Amara? Well, it was safe to say she wasn't happy.

"Hello, _brother_." She practically spat the word.

"You wanted my attention. Here I am," He said, not outwardly reacting to her barb.

She shot a look at Michael and Lucifer before looking back at Him. "You cheated— again."

"It's no more than last time," He pointed out, shaking His head.

"Planning on locking me away once more?" she hissed at Him. "You should have killed me."

Chuck looked down. "You know I can't do that, Amara."

"So you can keep that precious balance. To keep this pitiful world of yours spinning. You never needed them! You had me— You just made them to build your _ego_. I was your family, and you crammed me away in that cage alone and afraid— wishing, begging for death because of you!"

"I'm sorry, but they're my family, too. And you're right— I was stupid and naïve back then, but there's a value, a glory in creation that's greater and truer than my pride or my ego. Call it grace, call it being! Whatever it is, it didn't come from my hands. It was there waiting to be born. It just is, as you and I just were. Since you've been freed, I know that you've seen it— felt it even." He swallowed, stepping towards His sister.

"I know that in the beginning it was just you and me; we were family. I know that you loved me… and I never stopped loving you. Just because I made my creations and loved them _so much_ didn't— doesn't mean that I would love you any less, Amara."

Looking into her eyes, He held out His hand. "I won't lock you away again, not ever— I couldn't bear it the first time. Let this go. Let me show you all that I've found, sister. Let us be a family again." He glanced at His sons, noting that she looked with Him. "All of us."

Amara seemed to be struggling with an internal battle within herself. Then, slowly, she took His hand. He smiled, and she smiled back. "We have a lot of catching up to do," He murmured.

She closed her eyes, letting out a small laugh. "Only several billion years."

"Uh, I've got a few things to do first… if you don't mind that."

"You should probably start with your sons, _before_ they pass out," she commented.

Chuck's eyes widened a fraction, and He turned to look at Lucifer, whom Michael had moved to. The two had let the light 'trap' fade, shifting their wings back onto a the plane of existence they were usually kept on, when Amara had taken His hand. Lucifer had collapsed right as Michael had gotten to him. And though Michael was holding Lucifer upright, he looked ready to fall over, too. Both were exhausted.

"No, no… I'm fine. Tis but a scratch… Okay, so I'm a little sore— like _all over_ — and I'm a bit tired… I think I could take a nap for a good decade…. Aunt Amara, you pack a punch," Lucifer said, panting heavily as Chuck and Amara (never letting go of the other's hand) made their way over to the two archangels. The teenager's form was flickering around the edges, and his eyes were half-lidded and glazing over.

Michael's eyes were already closed, but the older archangel still frowned and flicked Lucifer's ear, earning a short "hey!" from the younger archangel. "Quit acting like the stubborn idiot that I'm supposed to be. It doesn't suit you."

"Did you just call yourself an idiot?" Michael flicked his ear again.

Chuck shook His head at His two sons. He placed a hand on Lucifer's shoulder and, with a little extra power due to the balance between Himself and His sister, healed Lucifer of his remaining injuries, including the fatigue. He did the same for Michael.

"Lucifer, I want to give you something," Amara said out of nowhere, taking the archangel's hand. Lucifer looked at the contact and then back up to her, staying silent in wait for her to continue. "From what I understand, you gave up so much for my brother and I to reconcile. It's only fair that I help repay that."

Lucifer's form began to solidify, his condensed true form sharpening at the edges. The light that radiated off of his being faded until it was a mere glow that gave his skin – now oddly comfortable – just a slight ethereal shine. A small smile of surprise lit upon his face when he noticed he could actually feel the concrete underneath him, the air that brushed over his skin, the weight of the clothes he wore.

"You made the perfect vessel for me?"

Chuck shook His head. "This is you, Lucifer. You're still in your true form."

Lucifer frowned. "So then… I don't need a vessel?"

"No, not anymore," Amara answered, smiling as Lucifer perked up at the realization of the gift.

"Wait—" Lucifer's smile faltered as he looked down at himself. "—I'm still a teenager," he half-whined.

Chuck let out a partially amused sigh while Michael rolled his eyes. "Father said you're still in your true form, Luce. You can change what it looks like whenever you want."

"I know that," Lucifer grumbled, not oblivious to the repetition of His words coming from Michael.

"Come. I'm sure Sam, Dean and Castiel will want to know how we are," Chuck said, standing up with His sister and watching as Michael helped Lucifer up.

"How stunned do you think they're going to be when they find out we cleaned up their mess with zero casualties?" Lucifer asked Michael excitedly as they all walked over to the staircase leading down into the Bunker. Yes, they could have teleported in, but there was a novelty about walking in when it came to reveals like this.

"I imagine that Father already paid the three a visit before coming to see Amara. That being said, not as shocked as you think," Michael replied back, holding the door open for Lucifer as well as his Father and Amara.

"Well," Lucifer drawled, rolling his eyes, "then they should be happy, right? Things stuck to the plan: Dad and Aunt Amara pulled a Sam and Dean in terms of family reconciliation; the world is safe from immediate harm— Plus, I don't have to have a vessel anymore, so Castiel can still hang out with the Winchesters… I think this all turned out rather well.

"Sure, Hell's probably going to go through a power groping phase, but Crowley can take over as King of Hell again. He's okay… for a demon, and it seemed like he was doing a good job, too. Hey— maybe we can make a deal with Crowley to start a diplomatic arrangement about souls. Then again, that would have to be after we get Heaven back up and running."

Michael suddenly grabbed Lucifer by the latter's shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. "Brother, you're rambling."

"Right," Lucifer said slowly but with a quick nod. "Does that mean you're still thinking about it?"

"Maybe," Michael sighed, reaching the bottom of the staircase and opening the next door that lead into the Bunker. "Why are you so hyperactive?" he muttered.

"It's most likely from the excess energy that was transferred to him, not to mention he's excited," Chuck answered softly to where Lucifer (who was several feet ahead of them now) wouldn't hear Him, only Michael and Amara being the recipients of His words.

"This is almost as bad as when he was drunk," Michael said, eyeing his brother warily as Lucifer sneezed. "I never did find out where Dean got that sheet of paper." He frowned and then peered over his shoulder at his Father. "You gave it to him."

Chuck shrugged. "Who else? Dean was kind of outmatched against Lucifer, and besides, it was a good way for Lucifer to relax."

"Ending up with a hangover is relaxing?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow, and sighed again. "I'm surprised more people don't wonder about where Gabriel and Lucifer got their mischievous sides from," he deadpanned, shaking his head and moving up to walk next to Lucifer down the hall to the main entrance.

"You made them well," Amara murmured to her brother, watching the pair in front of them. "To think you did this all for me."

"There were a few rough patches, but it all worked out in the end," Chuck responded. "They're family— we're family… no matter how much we fight, we're better together. And though they're an odd case, Sam and Dean are a testament to that."

"Rough patches?"

"A story for another time," He said, effectively stalling His having to answer.

Dean was looking confusedly at Lucifer, who had rushed ahead, when they entered the war room. "What's with the kid?"

"Hey! Just because I look like this doesn't mean you shouldn't recognize me," Lucifer pouted, which – if anything – made him look even younger. "Come on, Dean, the new look isn't that different from Sam."

The statement wasn't that far from the truth. Lucifer's form looked like he could have been a teenage Sam – albeit with longer and curlier hair, a lighter hair color, pale blue eyes, and a lean body (Sam had been rather lanky when he was a kid).

"Lucifer?"

"Got it in one," the archangel cheered.

"You found a new vessel?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Nope," Lucifer said, popping the 'p'. "This is still my true form. You're human brains wouldn't be able to comprehend how you're seeing me without exploding, so don't ask."

"Uh huh, because we want to know in the first place," Dean grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Lucifer when the archangel made a face, sticking his tongue out at Dean.

"To put it into simple terms, Amara condensed Lucifer's form onto the physical plane, though you're still only seeing a fraction of him," Michael explained to Sam while Lucifer and Dean glared at each other.

"Why would she do that?" Sam asked. "I thought you guys locked her up again."

"It didn't come to that, Sam," Chuck said, bringing to everyone's attention that He was in the room and that He was with His sister.

"So you two made up or something?" Dean interjected before Sam could ask anything.

"More or less," Amara answered with a shrug.

Michael seemed to wilt, realizing something. "You're leaving again."

Chuck gave his son a sad smile. "I won't be gone as long this time. It'll be more of a short vacation, really."

Dean nudged Michael, gaining the archangel's attention. "Hey, at least He's not leaving without letting you know."

Chuck pulled Michael and Lucifer into a hug, beckoning Castiel to join them. "I'll be back sooner than you know."

He pulled away, glancing to Amara, who nodded. Their forms dissolved into white and black smoke respectively, swirling around each other before leaving the room. Lucifer blinked a few times in the silence that followed. Then something clicked.

"You did not just leave me here to explain literally everything that happened!" he shouted up to the ceiling.

* * *

 **A/N: I think you can all tell that I'm starting to wrap this up. I used a mix of 11x22 and 11x23 conversations between Amara and Chuck for their confrontation here. After this should be one more chapter (maybe another if I run over) and then an epilogue. On another note, tomorrow (8/3/16) is when school starts** – **my life is about to get busy, but I finished that paper! XD**

Last edited: [March 7, 2018]

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 **lobita:** Yeah... I'm kinda sad too. But, hey, this story will always be here ;-)


	9. Aurora

**Chapter 9**

 **Aurora**

"It's complicated."

"How much more complicated can it be than _Game of Thrones_?" Dean asked, rolling his eyes.

Lucifer huffed, gracefully sitting down in one of the library's chairs. "Well, you see, it all started at the very beginning when it was just the Darkness and the Light—"

"Skip the minor details," Dean told him, taking the seat on the other side of the table. Sam sat down next to Dean while Michael and Castiel sat down on both sides of Lucifer.

"Fine. When Dad locked Amara away the first time, He didn't like it. She was still technically family, so He came up with this plan to get her back out and have her see why Creation is awesome—"

"So He _wanted_ her out?" Sam interrupted.

Lucifer refrained from letting out a frustrated sigh. "Yes. Now, Dad summoned me to the throne room one day and told me about this master plan of His. It would be implemented with my agreement in acknowledgment of all the pros and cons. It was something that would span over eons— even He didn't know when exactly this part would have taken place back then. I agreed to it, obviously…"

Castiel frowned. "What exactly was this plan? I understand that the goal was to let Amara out of her confinement, but what were the steps that had to be taken?"

"And this is where it gets complicated," Lucifer grumbled.

"Just spill," Dean grouched, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest.

Lucifer did sigh this time. "You have to understand that He recognizes that the plan was poorly thought out. First of all, no one could know about it – _even me_ – or it would have fell through. _So_ many things could have gone wrong, not to mention how long it would take or if it would even work, and then there was the chance that none of us would be the same enough for it to matter."

"You mean you agreed to some half-assed plan that was more likely to fail than it was to succeed? You're making Skynet's plan on sending only one damn Terminator after John Connor look like it'd been a good idea," Dean snarked.

"Well, at least we didn't have to use a holy hand grenade," Lucifer retorted.

Dean gave the archangel a look. "One, that's the wrong movie in the wrong context. Two, when did you watch _Monty Python_?"

"It was playing on a TV that I happened to pass by. I watched it off of that," Lucifer said with a smug expression.

"Can we please get back on topic?" Sam asked, sighing in exasperation.

"Do so," Michael agreed, running a hand down his face.

Lucifer splayed his hand on the table, picking up a finger and tapping it down on the table in a slow but repetitive manner. "The first part of it was to shove _me_ and my memories of this deep within my subconscious. If the Darkness figured out what we were planning, she would have taken advantage of it, and it would have failed. So, I had to take on a new personality.

"Of course, when you don't have the part of yourself that is basically your moral compass, things don't turn out that well. Though I don't think Dad was expecting me to go off the rails that much—"

"So you were basically soulless?" Dean asked.

"I don't really know what that's like since angels don't have souls, but sure. Let's go with that. May I continue?" Lucifer glared at Dean, who motioned for the archangel to keep going. "As you might recall, I don't really remember what happened between my agreement and two months ago, but I know Dad had changed my wings as part of the transformation."

Dean looked up from where he was fiddling with a random pencil that had been on the table. "Yeah, Michael told me about that." Said archangel shot the older Winchester a look. "What? He already knows."

Lucifer turned to face his brother. " _That's_ how you knew how long your molting would last." Michael merely nodded, looking away to one of the bookshelves. "Right… um, after that happened and many blank spots later, I came back. The trigger was getting hit with Aaron's rod, the Hand of God that Crowley had in one of his lock-ups. Okay, technically any of them would have worked, but that was the one that did its job— bringing me back was what they were made for."

"Woah, wait— back up. The Hands of God were made to resurface this part of your personality?" Sam asked, his jaw metaphorically (and slightly literally) dropping, with wide eyes.

"Isn't that what I _just_ said?" Lucifer rhetorically grumbled, rolling his eyes and propping his head up on his hand. "I'm pretty sure that once He figured out that my other self wasn't going to be keen on me being brought back, He gave them a bit more power so they would get a reputation, eventually leading one to be used on me."

"That would have taken an illogical amount of time to happen," Castiel muttered, ignoring Dean's "well, duh, Spock".

"I know, He knows, and we all agree that it was a very stupid plan," Lucifer said exasperatedly. "Stop interrupting me, and I might be able to finish this before the Sun explodes."

"Continue," Michael urged his brother.

"Finally… Let's see— getting hit by a Hand of God was only part of the trigger. Yes, it brought me back, but under the circumstances my other self was much more powerful than I, which was mainly because of my disorientation from going from Father's throne way back when to now. He could have smothered me and gone on with whatever plans he had.

"Coping with the memories was the hardest part out of readjusting," Lucifer admitted. "It was more or less backlash for the merging between ourselves. Michael helped with keeping them suppressed…

"Time jump to about a week ago: when Dean got me drunk, I had a dream – memory, really – in which I started noticing a few off things. I pieced most of it together by Hope Springs. Then I confronted Aunt Amara, and I got my memories of the plan back when she…" Lucifer hesitated, looking down sharply with a quick intake of breath.

It wasn't easy to just put aside dying – because he _had_ died, but Father had brought Lucifer back the instant his grace flickered out. There wasn't any evidence of Lucifer dying – his wings hadn't burned away, his grace hadn't exploded, nothing. But for that split second before waking in a dream, Lucifer remembered the Void.

He had been everywhere yet nowhere. He had been in a place where there was everything yet nothing. No Light, no Darkness, just nothing. His Father may have been being and Amara nothingness, but the 'Empty' – as some of the higher reapers called it – was untouched by either of them. Lucifer wasn't ready to tell Michael about it, not yet anyway.

"Hey, man," Dean said, drawing Lucifer out of his thoughts. His voice was laced with a concern that the Winchester didn't usually (never, really) use around the archangel. "If you don't want to talk about that part, we get it."

Lucifer glanced at them before looking back down, giving a slow nod. "Um, I saw Dad after _that_ , and we— well, talked. I woke back up and had Castiel take you guys to the Bunker. Stuff happened. Michael and I set up a meeting between Dad and Amara; they talked. More stuff happened, I got this—" Lucifer gestured to himself "—and I think you know the rest."

Dean crossed his arms. "See? Not that complicated."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Apparently not as complicated as Hell," he grumbled.

"Hey, Hell ain't complicated," Dean said right as Sam said, "There's still a few things I don't get."

"Like what?" Lucifer asked, ignoring Dean, who huffed at the action.

"Well, when you said that God— Chuck had changed your wings…" Sam trailed off, not entirely sure how to word his question.

"Originally, Lucifer's wings were made up of Father's Light itself. They were beyond words in terms of beauty," Michael said before Lucifer could answer. The older archangel was gazing at something far in the distance reminiscently, a small smile resting on his face. "After the change, they had a base white like mine were but with droplets of rainbows and iridescent pearls that had their own luminescent shine even in the daylight."

"Oh, stop, Michael. You're making me blush," Lucifer murmured, elbowing his brother.

"And now that you have your wings back, I must say, they're as beautiful as ever," Michael continued.

"I cannot say that I remember what your wings were like before, but I find myself somewhat… envious of them," Castiel said quietly, gazing at Lucifer's wings, which were hidden from the humans' views on another plane of existence.

Lucifer turned to look at the angel – as did the others. "Castiel, you have nothing to be envious of. If Dean could see your wings, he would call them badass. And I know I've healed them enough for that fact to be a hundred percent accurate."

"What do they look like?" Dean suddenly blurted out.

Castiel shifted awkwardly in his seat while Lucifer grinned. "Castiel's wings are darker than the night sky. When the light hits them at certain angles, you can see a thousand different colors in their ebony-obsidian shade."

"First off, you're right; Cas's wings do sound badass. Second, you guys describe your wings like your writing poetry to your lover or whatever the angel equivalent is," Dean stated with a shake of his head.

Lucifer huffed, slightly insulted, as Michael let out a soft chuckle. "You had other questions, Sam?"

"Yeah, uh, so when exactly did _you_ find out about this plan, Michael?"

"Lucifer relayed the information necessary for the plan to work to me as he went into his true form," Michael answered. "Lucifer will tell me all that the plan was later _in_ _full_."

Lucifer frowned at the last part of the statement, biting his lower lip. If anything, it looked like he was trying to suppress an 'oh shit' expression from forming on his face. That was going to be a very long, very _sensitive_ talk.

"I thought you would have been more angry at Chuck," Sam said, trying to steer the conversation to a marginally safer topic, all the while glancing back and forth between Michael and Lucifer.

Lucifer sighed, looking at Michael to go first. Leaning back in his chair, the oldest archangel pursed his lips in thought. "I was; I was angry at first," he started, the others watching him with interest. "He left us— gone for _so long_ , and then when He just showed up… it was almost like nothing had changed."

Michael scoffed, shaking his head. "He was still _Father_. He was still the first thing I saw when I was created. He was still the one that taught me everything. The one who kept me safe when the Darkness started getting angry at Him for creating more and more, destroying all but me. The one who gave me a brother that brought light to my world, and then two more that we cherished.

"I just… _couldn't_ stay mad at Him." Michael trailed off, but the others knew he still had something to say. "I was created to be His son, the Good Son. I was made to serve Him and do anything He commanded of me. When He created the others, I was told to protect them, care for them. The same was asked of us when He told us to love you humans as we loved Him. But by trying to be the Good Son, I failed at being a good brother.

"So I had to ask myself: how can I be mad at Him for leaving when I understand why He left? How can I be mad at Him when it wasn't He who was at fault but me— all of us?"

Lucifer placed a hand on Michael's forearm, looking into his brother's eyes. "I don't think that Dad left because of us or our failures but more of how we reacted to them. But this free will thing, it lets them— and _us_ try to do better after our mistakes."

A thoughtful silence fell amongst the group. Each of the Bunker's occupants mulling over how Lucifer's words applied to them— because his words did apply, if not in one way then another. No one said anything about the way the two archangels shifted closer to one another.

"What about you, Lucifer?" Sam asked softly.

"Me?" Lucifer hummed, blinking from being called out. "Well, uh, for you guys it's been thousands of years, right? It's only been a couple months for me."

Castiel frowned, leaning forward and looking at Lucifer. "How?"

Lucifer rubbed the back of his head. " _Because_ the last thing that _I_ remember from before those two months was being in His throne room. Sure, I remember some of the other's memories of those thousands of years, but they're not _mine_. The only thing that I had a reason to be angry at Him for was because I didn't understand how I got from there to here. So really, it's you guys that have the main reasons to be mad at Him."

"Well, I guess it's good to know you two are fine with everything," Dean huffed. "But if I ever see _Chuck_ again, I've still got a couple bones to pick with Him."

"I'd be surprised if you don't see Him again," Lucifer told the older Winchester. "You might even get to see Aunt Amara, too," he added with a wink.

"Oh, _shut your face_ — it's not like that," Dean growled.

Lucifer looked over to Sam, a smug smile on his face. "You know that's what they all say at first."

Sam shook his head, hiding the slight smile on his face. "The family tree would be insane."

"I imagine the dinners and meetings would be _so_ awkward, too."

Michael sighed. "You should stop before he attempts to murder you."

Dean looked almost the same as he did when Lucifer had turned the Impala pink. Obviously, it wasn't much of a good idea to insinuate the 'relationship' Dean had with Amara, though it didn't look like Lucifer was about to stop just yet. He was on a roll.

"Oh, I don't know… I hear they already had their first kiss," Lucifer said in a sing-song voice.

"That is it!" Dean yelled, practically jumping over the table to reach Lucifer as the archangel quickly scooted his chair back and away, easily staying out of Dean's grasp. "Get back here you little—"

"So _defensive_ , Dean," Lucifer taunted, continuing to evade Dean as the Winchester began to chase the archangel down.

Sam covered his slightly amused expression with a hand, and Castiel just watched the two with a confused look. Michael shook his head, sighing. "I'm surrounded by children."

"It's _idiots_ , brother, idiots," Lucifer corrected him without pausing in his evasive movements.

"What?"

"In _The Lion King_ , Scar says that he's surrounded by idiots— get it right," Lucifer informed his older brother.

"When did you watch that?" Sam asked, somewhat surprised that Lucifer would have even watched the movie. Then again, he had admitted to watching _Monty Python_ _and the Holy Grail_.

"What do you think I do in my free time? Mope around? I mean— yeah, I do that, too, sometimes, but that room with all the movies and the TV provides me entertainment when you're all out of the Bunker."

"Absolute children," Michael reiterated under his breath.

At that point Lucifer had pinned Dean down on the table, the hunter face down with his arm held behind him. Dean still struggled under the hold, but it was clear that he wasn't going anywhere. Lucifer waited until the human stilled to let go. He backed away, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow with a playful smile.

"If you two are done, I still have a couple more questions," Sam said, trying to get everyone's focus back on track.

"Ask away, Sammy," Lucifer piped cheerfully, taking his seat.

Sam gave him a look but didn't comment on Lucifer's use of the nickname. "Well, since you sort of brought it up, is Dean's connection to Amara going to affect him anymore?"

Lucifer breathed in deeply, resting his head on his arms which he had resting on the table. "Maybe, I don't know. That's something to ask Dad… But it _shouldn't_ — not unless she's around anyway."

"Uh, then, what are you going to do now?" Sam asked, glancing between Michael and Lucifer, though his gaze drifted to Dean and Castiel, too.

"I suppose bringing order back to Heaven is a priority," Michael stated slowly.

Dean huffed, coming back over to the table from when he momentarily got up to go get a beer from a random location off to the side. "Yeah, you do that."

"How will you do so, Michael," Castiel asked over Dean, shooting the Winchester a glare.

Lucifer and Michael side-glanced each other. "Well, it's not going to be a dictatorship if that's what you're asking…"

"I plan on rebuilding what Lucifer remembers Heaven to be but with more of… now's thought processes," Michael continued off of Lucifer's input.

"Oh, and heavens are usually only shared by soul-mates, right? Well, I'm thinking we could probably open it up a bit more to included familial ties and then later on go even further to like friends and stuff. I mean— you two are covered, but I think it'd be cool for more social interaction," Lucifer started, about to go off into the whole of his forming idea when Dean cut him off.

"What do you mean we're 'covered'?"

Lucifer looked at Dean like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. With a subtle eye twitch, the archangel turned to his brother. "How slowly do you think I have to spell it out for them?" Michael made a 'don't look at me' gesture with his hands to which Lucifer rolled his eyes. "You two," Lucifer said, pointing a finger to Sam and another at Dean, "are both bound to Heaven."

"What?" came Sam's stunned response.

Lucifer dramatized falling over to the side in exasperation before sitting back upright. "When you die, you will go to a heaven that you will both be in together once the other arrives… Or you could possibly both die together, but either way you'd still be in the same heaven."

"But—"

"But nothing, Dean," Michael interrupted the Winchester. "You have both earned this, and if any reaper would like to say otherwise they can take it up with Father."

"Take their word on this, Dean," Castiel told the hunter.

Dean turned on the angel. "What about you, Cas? What are you going to do?"

Castiel looked marginally taken aback, shifting in his seat while glancing between the two sets of brothers. The angel wanted to stay with Sam and Dean, but he also wanted to help rebuild Heaven. Lucifer gave him an in-between.

"I don't see anything wrong with you going back and forth between Heaven and Earth," the archangel mused. "We should make you Head of Earthly Relations or something."

"I'd rather not," Castiel said to the latter comment.

"Whatever you choose, Lucifer and I will need to be going," Michael stated suddenly, standing up. "We will be opening Heaven's main gates within the month, but I would prefer to begin sooner rather than later now that Amara is no longer a threat."

"I thought that Metatron's spell was permanent," Sam spoke up.

"You really think Dad would let something like that stay forever and on? With all of those souls stuck out on the front porch?" Lucifer gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "We've got keys."

"Keys?" Dean asked incredulously.

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and a giant, four foot long, silver, ornate key thudded down on the table, making Sam and Dean jump at its sudden appearance. Then Michael also snapped his fingers, making similar key appear. However, though Michael's key was the shape and size as Lucifer's, the key was made of platinum and had a different pattern on the end of it.

"Oh..." Dean said with a slight shake in his voice, "keys."

"Hey, big doors need big keys. Technically, we'd need all four, but all that really does it make it easier to open the Gates," Lucifer told them. "So the main reason it's going to take about a month to open them is because Michael is out of shape—"

Michael swatted Lucifer upside the head.

"But actually, it's because the great, pearly gates are massive, as Castiel can tell you later. It's going to take a while to push them open," Lucifer corrected himself. "Not to mention that I don't think the angels that are left will be too pleased to see either of us."

 **-oOo-**

Michael had taken him to a secret place in Heaven, a place created by the two of them and reserved for only them. No one else knew about the little room except for their Father.

The older archangel had wrapped the younger in an embrace as soon as they landed, one had wrapped around Lucifer's waist and the other curled around his neck, pulling him close. Lucifer hadn't hesitated in returning the hug. He had known that this had been coming ever since he had left that flower on the bed.

"Promise me, Lucifer. Promise me you won't ever do that to me again," Michael whispered into his little brother's ear.

"I promise," he whispered back.

* * *

 **A/N: I had some technical difficulties with this chapter, but here it is. I looked over this several times to make sure everything was in order. I hope the explanations and stuff weren't too boring (which is kind of why there was a bit of fluff in random spots), yet they had to be done. And it looks like there is going to be the extra chapter and then epilogue, so yeah... (Technically, I've already finished writing the next chapter, but I still want to keep it until I know that it's what I want, which may take a little bit to get to because real life is** _busy_ **at the moment).**

Last edited: [March 7, 2018] That's right I've been editing all of these instead of studying for my mid-terms.

* * *

 **Ki guy:** I'm going to have to say that Lucifer isn't going to get those memories back— mainly because everything is going fine for him even though he doesn't have them. But Chuck did leave the offer open, so if Lucifer did ever want them back, all he'd have to do is ask. It's just that Lucifer really doesn't have a need for them.

 **Deja Vu 22:** ... I'll see what I can do about that.


	10. Golden Hour

**Chapter 10**

 **Golden Hour**

"Stop pushing with your back and use your legs," Lucifer bit out, voice strained from his own exertion of force.

"Shut up and push," Michael shot back.

It had been almost two weeks since they had left Sam, Dean and Castiel in the Bunker to go back to Heaven. Lucifer had been right about the other angels not being all that pleased at their reappearance – especially Lucifer's. However, by the end of the first week, the angels (some reluctantly) had stopped trying to get Michael and Lucifer to leave when they realized they couldn't do anything about their presence. That and archangels were working to reopen Heaven's main gates, which put them on some of the angels' good side.

This had more or less split the remaining angels into two opinionated sides: one willing to help the archangels and the other still wanting them gone, not that Michael or Lucifer minded yet. They were focusing on getting the Gates open first, and as long as none of the angels attacked them, it would stay that way.

Lucifer stumbled slightly as he felt the door he was pushing shift. He stopped to peer through the crack – wide enough for him to stick a hand through – between the one gate door and the other Michael was still working on. "Hey, I think I can see a few souls from here."

"Maybe if you go back to pushing the door your supposed to be opening, you can stick your whole head through," Michael retorted.

"You're just mad that you haven't gotten yours as far open as mine," Lucifer responded playfully.

He laid himself down with his back on the ground, elbows also on the ground and bracing him, and put his feet on the gate door, knees bent. He pulled his legs back and then slammed his feet back 'down' on the gate. The thing creaked from the hit but didn't budge. Lucifer huffed and tried again, putting even more force behind the action. It moved a millimeter.

Lucifer glared at the door, muttering to himself, "Why didn't we ask Sam or Dean for any ideas on how to make this go faster?"

"Because we didn't think they would have something for this," Michael answered, hearing Lucifer's rhetorical question. "Besides, we're almost over the hardest part."

"Say that again when we get to the 'easier' part," Lucifer grumbled.

Michael suddenly backed up a good distance and with a running start, rammed into the left door of the Gates. The door creaked and groaned, moving ever so slightly. Eyes blazing with his grace, Michael backed up again as Lucifer shifted to where he was sitting so he could watch.

"Um, Michael…" Lucifer started when Michael's next hit shook the whole of Heaven. "I thought we were going for a bit more subtly than that."

"They'll be fine," Michael responded, referring to the souls that would have felt a tremor run through their personal heaven, before backing up again. "I'm just speeding this up."

"You're gonna kill your shoulder that way," Lucifer observed as Michael made another shockwave from ramming into the door. Well, he was moving it by the inches now.

"You're killing time by just sitting there."

Lucifer raised an impressed eyebrow at the burn. "Nice one, but can you keep this up? I think not."

"What? Keeping up this striking conversation or getting the Gates open?" Michael was panting slightly, but that wasn't stopping him from continuing to ram into the Gates.

"Both, I suppose," Lucifer told him. The younger archangel turned his head to look at Castiel when the angel walked up to him. "Hello, Castiel."

The other angels hadn't been happy to see him either. But, like Michael and Lucifer, they had to put up with him. However, those supporting Michael and Lucifer's return were more open to acknowledging Castiel's place beside the archangels, which was more or less their right-hand man in a way.

"Lucifer," the angel greeted. His eyes looked concernedly at Michael, who now had his door open by a good four inches more. "Should he be doing that?"

"No, not really," Lucifer answered. "He's just now resorted to trying to open the gates using brute force— not only wearing him out in the process but also giving Heaven the equivalent of minor earthquakes."

Castiel looked down at the teenage form of the second oldest archangel. "And you're not helping him?"

Lucifer shrugged. "I'm taking a break, and besides, this is entertaining to watch."

"You know… I can hear every word… you're saying," Michael said between breaths, leaning against the gate.

"Good, that means you can hear me when I call you an idiot," Lucifer said, getting up.

"Thanks," Michael drawled, still resting against the pearly gate.

Castiel frowned. "Is there any way I can help?"

"Well, unless something's changed since last week, then the answer's still the same. Though I guess you could keep us company for a while," Lucifer suggested, grounding himself before shoving at the right door of the Gates. "And don't take that the wrong way— we've _all_ been over this with you, Cassie," he added as an afterthought.

The angel fidgeted at the reminder. "Does that put me to the task of keeping a conversation with you?"

Lucifer made an offhanded noise that could have been a 'meh', or possibly a grunt as he renewed his vigor against the door. "Sure, let's go with that— Say, how are Sam and Dean?"

"Both are well," Castiel informed them. "They got a case involving a ghost that had been haunting a crossroads. It hadn't been active until a teenage couple tried to summon a demon there on a dare. The ghost kept them from doing the summoning but injured the boy while doing so. Sam and Dean only decided to investigate it because they had nothing else to do."

Lucifer turned his head to look at the angel when Castiel paused. "Well, keep going."

"Apparently, the ghost was of a woman who died with her young daughter in a car crash that took place at that crossroads. She had only stayed on Earth to protect any she saw that were like her daughter, and the girl had reminded the woman of such. Sam and Dean were able to convince her to move on without getting anyone else hurt.

"However, they have never heard of anything like this ghost before, and it made them even more questioning when the ghost had told them she had only died a couple weeks before," Castiel continued.

Michael frowned. "I've never heard anything of the like either."

"I take it ghosts aren't supposed to do that," Lucifer muttered. "Well, it's happened now— maybe it's a new thing."

"Lucifer, this ghost was _her_ mother," Castiel told him quietly.

Lucifer stopped, hands falling down to his sides. He turned to face the angel slowly, tilting his head. His eyes narrowed dangerously, wings bristling on their plane. " _You're lying_ — I would have felt it if she died," he said lowly.

Castiel didn't back away like any other angel might have at the display. "I'm not lying."

"Then where is she?!" Lucifer demanded. The temperature plummeted. Ice crawled over the ground with Lucifer at the epicenter and then shattered as Lucifer's grace created shockwaves in his anger and frustration.

Castiel did take a step back that time, and Michael moved to place a hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "Calm down, Lucifer, before you destroy something," he told him softly, adding a bit of grace to his touch to sooth his little brother.

"She wasn't in her heaven when I looked for her there," Castiel inputted, seeing Lucifer 'relax' marginally only to tense once more at Castiel's words.

"Lazy ass reapers," Lucifer hissed, shrugging Michael's hand off to move a fair distance away from the Gates. "Give them one extra little thing to do, and what do they do? Ignore you, and keep doing what they're usually doing… _I suggest you move, brother_."

Michael didn't need to be told twice. He knew what the girl meant to Lucifer. The little girl that Lucifer had met at the park. The little girl that had sent him back to Michael. The little girl that shined ever so brightly in the Morning Star's eyes.

The older archangel took Castiel with him to a relatively safe distance away by the tree line several yards along the Axis Mundi. They watched as Lucifer's wings flexed and he shot forward, ramming into the Gates with an even more concussive force than Michael had earlier. This, of course, created a bit more than a 'minor earthquake', causing Castiel to stumble. The angel would have fell over if Michael hadn't held him up.

Lucifer didn't stop there. He kept barraging the Gates, hitting them dead center where he was hitting both of them at once. He only stopped when he suddenly collapsed after several rounds, and Michael ran up to check on him, Castiel following close behind. Lucifer was breathing hard, but he had a smug smile on his face.

"Looks like… brute force… does work, eh Mikey?" he panted, nodding his head to the Gates.

Michael turned to see that Lucifer had opened them to the point where a man could easily slip through, which was a vast improvement to the small crack they had made earlier. "And now the hard part's over," Michael said, looking back down at Lucifer.

"Hard part?" Castiel asked with a frown.

"It's this weird thing… Once you get the doors open enough… the rest is just… a piece of cake," Lucifer huffed, leaning against Michael. "At first, it's like trying to push… a couple solar systems at once… and it gets easier from there... Decreasing exponential weight factor or something."

"I do believe Lucifer just sped up the process by a few days," Michael observed.

"If I gather some of your supporters, do you think we could help?" Castiel asked hopefully.

"Anything to get these stupid things open— she has to be on the other side somewhere," Lucifer said, finally getting his breathing back under control.

Michael nudged Lucifer as Castiel flew off rally the other angels. "You can go look for her. Castiel and I can handle getting the Gates open the rest of the way."

Lucifer nodded and took off, zipping through the opening. It took him a while with the millions of souls surrounding the 'front porch' as he had called it when mentioning it to the Winchesters, but he found her. She was sitting – as well as a soul could sit anyway – under a tree.

Now, one has to understand, the 'front porch' was basically the waiting area to get into Heaven while also being connected to the Veil. This meant that while you weren't bound to go to Hell and you weren't stuck on Earth, you also weren't able to get into Heaven yet for whatever reason. In this instance, it was because the Pearly Gates had been kind of closed for the past three years – none of the souls could get in the usual way. That was part of the reason why Michael and Lucifer had asked some of the reapers to start escorting the souls there into Heaven, which they weren't doing.

This waiting area was a minor paradise itself. Paradise in the way that where ever you were it shifted to fit your preferences. So if someone wanted to be in a restaurant, the building would appear out of nowhere, but the other souls would be able to see and go into it, too. It was mainly a giant collage of the many souls' comforts. To say it was a bit chaotic was an understatement, but there usually wasn't this many souls waiting out here.

"Hey," Lucifer greeted her, sitting down next to the little girl he had meet at that park.

"Hello, Mr. Angel," she greeted back, her pig tails bouncing slightly as she turned to look at him with her hazel eyes. "You look happier. I'm glad you solved your problem."

Something in Lucifer stirred at how she somehow recognized him. "How do you figure that?" he asked, referring to how she knew he was an angel.

She shrugged. "You're not like the people out there," she said, pointing to the other souls moving around them. "You're too pretty and big, and you have wings."

Lucifer internally frowned for a split second. She could see his wings? "Well, I don't think I've been called 'too pretty' before."

"I like you like this."

"What? The new look?" He gestured to his face and then the rest of him. She nodded several times. "I like it, too." He looked around the crowd of souls milling about. "Why are you by yourself?"

He knew that it would have been easy for the girl to get lost in this sea of faces. It was comparably worse than walking through the streets of New York City during rush hour – on a scale times ten… thousand. Approximately one hundred and fifty-three thousand humans died each day, and at least a half went to Heaven. Multiply that by the number of days in a year and then by three… The back up of souls was horrid.

"Mom went looking for Dad," the girl told him. "She got here a couple days ago. She told me to stay here."

So the girl's mother had made it here. That was good. "Did she mention two brothers?"

"Yeah, she said they helped her move on." The girl had gone back to looking out at the mass of souls passing by.

"You know, we never did properly introduce ourselves to each other," he mentioned. "I'm Lucifer."

She frowned, looking back up at him. "Like the _Devil_?"

He blinked. What exactly had he been expecting? Humans were still used to the other him. "I'm the archangel he was before that nasty mess happened."

"So you're retired?"

"Sure, let's go with that," he said, letting a small smile creep onto his face.

"Well, Luci, I'm Lillian," she informed him, wrapping herself around his arm in a side hug. Though he was a bit startled at the sudden contact, he didn't remove himself from the awkward embrace, and eventually a comforting silence fell between them.

Lucifer shot a glance at the shining Gates of Heaven when Michael called over angel radio that they were very close to officially opening them all the way. Lucifer caught Lillian's attention by tapping a finger on her knee. "You want to see something awesome?"

At her excited nod, he snapped his fingers, moving them to where they could watch with an excellent view. They were still sitting under the tree, but Lucifer put them on top of a hill so they could see over the other souls. He then shifted the girl so she was sitting on his lap, though she was still holding onto his hand.

He directed her attention to the already partially open doors. A – excuse the pun – heavenly light shone through the doors, cascading those near in the ethereal glow. The pearly white, gate doors were still moving though, and they swung wide as Michael and Castiel and the other angels worked to open them.

A look of awe came over Lillian's face as the Gates suddenly finished their curved path, halting with a loud bell toll that echoed throughout the waiting area, calling the souls to the doors. Lucifer saw Michael and Castiel with a few of the others guiding souls into Heaven. He knew that once the souls passed through the doors, they would find themselves in their personal heaven.

"Come on, let's go find your parents, and then I'll take you all to your heavens," Lucifer told the girl.

 **-oOo-**

"Wait, so Sam almost died _because_ he was being cautious," Lucifer asked incredulously with a slight smile. "How does that work?"

"I'm not sure, but that's what Dean told me, though he could have been exaggerating," Castiel informed the archangel.

"Well, it's been a while. Maybe I should visit Earth sometime soon," Lucifer mused. "I haven't seen those two since that Men of Letters incident."

"Twelve years is certainly a long time for them," Castiel agreed with a nod.

Lucifer's smile became a bit more reminiscent. "They're getting old, aren't they?"

"Yes," Castiel sighed. "But Sam and Dean refuse to quit hunting despite the numerous amount of times they've prayed to me for a healing or help."

The archangel's smile brightened. "At least they'll be in for a nice surprise when they get here," he said cheerfully.

Castiel mirrored the smile. "That they will."

"You better get going," Lucifer told the angel, nudging him with an elbow. "I hear Michael is going to be welcoming the new fledglings soon."

"Shouldn't you be there as well?"

"Hey, I did the meet and greet with the last set while he was off checking in with the Roadhouse," Lucifer deflected. "Besides, I'll get to meet them eventually. If it's anything like the last couple times, there'll only be four or five new angels. You're a big, bad, high-ranking bossman now. You can handle a few fledglings, Cassie."

"Very well," Castiel relented. "Though you should know that Laurel and Renee adore you. They will miss you if you stay away for too long."

"It's not like I'm going anywhere," Lucifer called out to the empty air as Castiel flew off.

He sighed, shaking his head and making his way to a certain heaven. He should have known from the moment he saw her out on the 'front porch' that Lillian's heaven would be an eternal day at that park with all of her friends and family. And ever since he and Michael let the souls mingle and move across different heavens (as long as they didn't disturb those that didn't want others in their personal heaven), the human side of Heaven was a notably happier and more lively place.

Not only was this because certain souls were reunited with separated loved ones, but also that it allowed them to build communities. Artists got to show off new creations they made here in Heaven, and fans got to meet famous others. The convention halls that Lucifer made for those events were always packed. Most of the new public areas usually were.

Lucifer was pulled out of his silent musing when he felt a familiar presence. He frowned, turning the corner of the corridor to see a man – _not a man,_ his mind registered – standing near a railing that over looked a great expanse of plains that some of the older fledglings used to practice flying.

Frown deepening, Lucifer approached the familiar figure. "Do I know you?"

The figure tensed at the sound of his voice, and when Lucifer placed a hand on the man's shoulder, the reaction was immediate. The man straight up punched Lucifer in the face with enough momentum to send Lucifer stumbling backwards.

"What the hell was that for?" came Lucifer's muffled cry. His hand was covering his nose and mouth, blood slipping through his fingers. His nose felt like it was broken. That was one of the downsides of having a physical true form: some things hurt more.

However, now that Lucifer was looking at the man's face, a name came to the front of his mind. He lowered his hand away from his own face, not caring about the pain radiating from his nose. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel looked furiously at Lucifer, eyes burning with anger, betrayal and something Lucifer didn't recognize in his brother. His golden grace snapped at Lucifer when the older archangel took a step towards the younger. And suddenly Lucifer realized that other 'something' was fear.

"Gabriel, you're back," Lucifer said with a hesitant smile.

"No shit, Sherlock," Gabriel bit back, keeping the distance between them when Lucifer tried to get closer. That action itself felt like a stab to the heart.

"Gabriel, it's _me_ ," Lucifer tried.

"You killed me, asshole," he hissed.

Lucifer looked down. "I know." It was something that he knew even the other him had regretted more than almost anything. "And I'm sorry."

"For what? Ruining everything," Gabriel retorted.

"Dammit, Gabriel— it's me. I'm not _him_. You know I don't lie."

Gabriel's posture went ridged, his grace swirling tumultuously. He let out an agitated growl. "And that's it, huh? Everything's just forgiven?"

Lucifer cringed. "Not at the moment, but I'm hoping you will forgive me someday."

"You're an idiot," Gabriel scoffed. He then sighed, shaking his head. "I forgave you like thirty seconds ago."

With that, Gabriel closed the gap between them and hugged Lucifer, burying his face into Lucifer's shoulder and making the older archangel stumble backwards once more at the sudden contact. Lucifer was hit with the feeling of overwhelming relief as he returned the embrace.

"Of _course_ … you have a helluva lot of explaining to do, Luci," Gabriel murmured into his ear.

Lucifer groaned. "Not again— Go ask Michael to tell it to you. He explains it way faster."

He felt Gabriel huff and then frown against his shoulder. "Then at least tell me how long I've been… well, dead."

"Um, well— I _think_ it was about seven years until I came back, and then it's been thirteen years since Dad and Aunt Amara got back together— so give or take twenty years," Lucifer answered.

"Aunt Amara?"

"Long story."

"It usually is."

* * *

 **A/N: So this was a bit more focused on Heaven and whatno** **t—** **but I brought Gabriel back! This is technically the last whole chapter. There's just the epilogue left. It's been a journey. And for my first published fanfiction, I feel good about it.**

Last edited: [March 10, 2018]

* * *

 **Pam:** (1/10/17) My eternal thanks to you for pointing out that this chapter was out of whack. I got that review via email (at the very end of a shower no less lol), and I rushed by to my computer to fix the issue, which is hopefully resolved forever now.

 **lobita:** I'm sorry I made you cry (not really, I just hope they were happy tears) XD


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Dean opened his eyes to see the stars. He blinked. It hadn't been night when he… died. Dean spun on his feet. _Sam! Where was Sam?!_ Dean relaxed when he saw his brother staring at his hands a few feet away. Dean frowned, looking down at his own hands.

He should have realized it when he saw Sam, but it now registered that he didn't look a day older than thirty-seven and neither did Sam, looking as he had at thirty-three. It was like they had stepped out of one of the days right after Lucifer had been reawakened and straight into Heaven.

Dean took in his surroundings, noting that the Impala was parked next to the porch that they were standing on. He walked forward and turned, eyes widening when he read the Roadhouse's sign. A wide smile spread across his face.

"Dean?"

He looked back to his brother, smile still plastered on his face. "Heya, Sammy... Looks like Lucifer did his job."

"Of course I did. You doubted me?" a smug voice asked from where the archangel stood in the doorway entrance. "Come on in. There are some people waiting for you."

Sam and Dean shared a glace and then followed Lucifer inside before the archangel flew off somewhere. They were greeted by more than a dozen familiar faces, but one rushed forward to pull them into a hug first.

"Mom?" they both questioned at the same time.

"You two have no idea how much I've missed you," she told them, releasing them from her embrace to look at them. "You both grew up so well."

"Your sons are remarkable people," Henry spoke up from his chair where he sat next to someone Sam and Dean didn't recognize. However, from the way their father looked at her and the way Henry held her hand, it wasn't too hard to conclude that it was Millie – John's mother.

"You two idjits did good," Bobby said, walking forward to welcome them next.

Both Sam and Dean were too stunned by all of the people in the room to say anything as each took a turn to greet and compliment them. Bill, Ellen and Jo all stood together as they offered to get the two a drink, which the brothers agreed to. Adam and his mother said hello to them after Sam and Dean got their drinks, but the pair had to leave to go to a convention or something. A redhead suddenly rammed into Dean's side, and he was overjoyed to see it was Charlie. Kevin was standing a little bit behind her, and the two of them both happily welcomed them despite Sam and Dean's involvement in their deaths. Again, the two had to go, but Charlie was heading off to some LARP-ing event and Kevin to go back to see his mom.

Ash was over in a corner of the bar fiddling with a set up of several flat screen TVs. He told them that it was for Heaven's broadcasting channels, since apparently Heaven had that now. Or at least that was what Dean thought Ash meant by it. The genius waved them off saying that Lucifer could tell them more about it. They left him to his work.

Sam and Dean weren't exactly sure how much time had passed when most of the crowd finally dispersed, leaving John, Mary, Sam and Dean alone in a secluded area of the bar. They talked for even longer than the crowd had been around the two famous hunters, going hours into the next day, or what it seemed like anyway.

And then Castiel walked into the Roadhouse, getting greetings from the owners and a grunt of acknowledgment from Bobby as well as a hello from John and Mary.

"Hey, Cas. Long time no see," Dean told the angel.

"It has only been a few months, Dean," the angel reminded him.

"It's still good to see you," Sam said before Dean could retort anything.

Castiel nodded. "And I see that the two of you are adjusting well."

"It's nothing like we thought it would be," Sam replied.

"Michael and Lucifer have done a lot. The souls are much happier. Heaven has become more of an extended life for them," Castiel informed them with a small smile. "With perks," he added as an afterthought.

"You bet Heaven's got perks," said a cheerful voice.

Dean's eye twitched slightly. "You've got to be kidding me." And yet when he turned, he saw the thought-to-be-dead, youngest archangel/Trickster.

"Sorry, Deano, I'm not going anywhere," Gabriel responded with a smirk. The smirk dropped as he suddenly got shoved forward when Lucifer hooked an arm around his neck.

"Now why are you messing with these two? They just got here," Lucifer playfully reprimanded his brother.

"And you wouldn't have if you didn't have Lillian with you?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes, pushing himself off of his little brother. "Okay, stow it, Gabriel."

"Who's Lillian?" Sam asked.

Lucifer glanced between the two human bothers and then stepped to the side, revealing the seven-year-old girl that had been standing behind him. He put a hand on her shoulder as she gave them a big, toothed smile. "This is Lillian."

"Lucifer dotes on her big time," Gabriel got in before Lucifer elbowed him, hard.

"He has good reason to," Michael said, entering the bar through the door like a normal person instead of just flying in.

"Go on," Lucifer said to the little girl, nudging her forward.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the action, but then the girl spoke. "Thank you for helping my mom."

"Uh, you're welcome," he responded.

"Are you having a good time here?" Sam asked the little girl, slipping into his 'knowing parent' mode that he had picked up over the years.

Grinning, Lillian nodded. "Luci said he's gonna make a giant amusement park soon, and it's going to have all kinds of rides that I can get on with my friends," she told him.

Sam couldn't help but smile at the girl's excitement. Momentarily glancing up at Lucifer, who was determinedly looking away at something on the wall, Sam then asked her, "And what about Lucifer's brothers? Do you like them?"

The girl's head bobbed up and down once more. "Gabe makes the best candy ever! Mikey let's me visit the other baby angels, and Cas hangs out with me sometimes when Luci can't make it for the week."

Sam felt a tad stunned at the girl's answer. She really was doted on – by all four of the angels standing in the room. "You must be a very special little girl," he mused.

Instead of nodding like the last two times, she shook her head, smile dropping into something much more shy. "I just helped Luci out with one of his problems."

Dean let out a scoff. "Well, you're officially good in my books, kid."

Lillian had to say goodbye when Lucifer pulled her away so he could take her back to her heaven where her mother was waiting – to which she pleaded with him to take her to go visit Nick first, and Lucifer begrudgingly agreed to 'stop by and say hello'.

"She's a sweetheart," Mary commented. "Lucifer brings her by every once in a while. She hasn't changed a bit since John and I first met her."

"She's a little force of nature when she needs ta be, too," Bobby added. "And seein' how she's being doted on by three archangels _and_ your best friend, I suggest you keep that in mind."

"Hey, the little squirt is too cute to refuse," Gabriel pouted in mock defensiveness.

"Lillian does have a certain quality about her," Castiel agreed.

Michael smiled at his brother's responses. "I believe Father made her specifically with a connection to Lucifer. Nothing big, but enough to keep Lucifer the way we know him now."

"Really?" Sam inquired.

"She was the one who prompted him to release Michael from the Cage," Castiel inputted.

"And she's the reason why we were able to open the Gates sooner than we thought. She had Lucifer practically breaking them down to get to her," Michael continued off of the seraph-raised-seraphim.

"If you watch them long enough, you'll notice that Lucifer's always calmer, more... _relaxed_ around her," Gabriel added conspiratorially. "She's got him wrapped around her little finger."

Dean shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. "I swear, you guys are all actually teenage girls with the way you're gossiping."

"You know you want to get into this, you softhearted jerk," Sam teased.

"In your dreams, bitch."

 **-oOo-**

Chuck smiled to Himself, rereading the words He had just finished typing.

"What is it, Brother?" Amara asked, looking over His shoulder at the computer screen.

He didn't mind when She did that, reading His works before He even got to print them out. Though sometimes when She didn't like something that happened, Chuck had to make Himself a new computer. It was a good thing He had several copies of the backup drives.

"It all worked out in the end," She finally commented.

"That it did, Sister. That it did."

* * *

 **A/N: _The End…_ or is it? Just kidding.**

 **I did give the Winchesters a happy ending. It was just kind of inevitable with the way the last two chapters were. I hope you all enjoyed** _ **Light of Dawn**_ **. It was fun to write, and though it wasn't the first I've ever written, it was the first I have ever published** **– for** **real though. And I thank you all for reading this all the way though and especially if you reviewed/favorited/followed this.**

Last edited: [March 10, 2018]


	12. Day on the Eve

**Precursor Note: So like, this is me going an extra bit further with the _LoD_ universe and putting this little, bonus one-shot things here. You can think of them as snippets of a continuation. Like those short films of Disney movies they have for _Frozen_ and _Tangled_ that aren't actually sequels but kind of are. **

* * *

**Bonus 1**

 **Day on the Eve**

 **Timeline Point: A year or so after the Epilogue**

"Luci!"

The little girl rammed into his side with all the excitement of a kid waking up on Christmas morning, which wasn't that far from the truth. Technically, it _was_ December 25 on Earth, and Lucifer had something special planned for today.

"Hey, Lil," he greeted her, shifting to wrap her in a makeshift hug.

She pulled away, bouncing up and down on her heels with a bright, beaming smile on her face as she looked up at him. "It's been _ages_ since I last saw you," she exclaimed, exaggeration clear in her young voice. "Where've you been? Mikey said you were making sure the new baby angels were getting 'settled in', but then Cas mentioned that you were creating some new public area for the souls that want to watch movies."

" _Whoa_ — slow down. You're talking faster than Gabriel," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "First of all, it hasn't been 'ages'; it's only been a couple months. Secondly, I've been working on a little project of mine. And Michael and Castiel weren't wrong to say I was doing those things as well."

"I still missed you," she responded, burying her face into his shirt as she completed the action of hugging him again.

"I missed you, too," he admitted into the brown curls of her hair. "Now, do you know what today is?"

She looked up at him with a confused expression, shaking her head. He kneeled down a little to reach being eye-level with her. "Well, I doubt you know too much about the events that were said to have taken place around this time, but…" he trailed off, turning his hand with palm facing upward, and then summoned a paper wrapped box. "This should give you a clue."

Her eyes widened in excitement as she began to bounce up and down. She wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him in as tight of a hug as she could give, before accepting the gift from his hand. It was a tiny thing, easily able to fit in her small hand.

With a care unique of a child her age, she slowly pulled apart the little bow on top of the box, letting the white ribbon drape over her hand and off the sides, stirring in the slight breeze that flowed through her heaven. She then undid the paper wrapping to uncover the jewelry box. Opening the lid revealed the eight-pointed star necklace inside.

It was made of the celestial metal that angel blades were forged from. In the points of the cardinal directions, there was a gem set at each tip. A Kashmir sapphire was set to the east point; a Burmese ruby to the west; a Colombian emerald in the south point; a deep golden colored citrine was in the north; and at the center was a polished, round diamond, clear and flawless, that Lucifer knew would reflect the colors of the rainbow in certain lighting. After all, he had made each gem – the entirety of jewelry, really – himself.

He picked up the one inch in diameter piece of jewelry by its silver chain and helped Lillian put it on. It rested just to the right of her heart, almost three inches beneath her collarbone. She hugged him again after another minute or so of staring at the jewelry that now hung from her neck.

"I love it, Lucifer," she told him.

And Lucifer couldn't help but notice how she sounded the age she should have been if she were still alive. He didn't know if she realized that she would have been in college at this point. That she would have been getting ready to graduate and get a job that she had gotten a degree for.

"I didn't get you anything," she suddenly said with a sad voice, looking down.

Lucifer gently lifted her head back up to look into her hazel eyes. "You've already given me the greatest gift."

She smiled, and he smiled back. "I still think I should get you something…" she mumbled.

Lucifer pursed his lips together in thought, trying to figure out a way to have the girl 'get him something' without diverting from what he had planned. "Well, I have another surprise for you…" he told her.

Tilting her head to the side, Lillian frowned. "Another one?"

"It's more like a bunch of them," he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

The pendant hadn't been what kept him away for those couple months. It was the little trip that he'd had planned that had taken him those extra months. He wanted the occasion to be special, and not just because of the holiday. Nor was it that Lillian's birthday had been barely two weeks ago.

It was more that this whole year had been a milestone, so to say. It marked fifteen years since he had essentially awoken. Fifteen years since he first met Lillian. Fifteen years since he and Michael had become brothers again. Fifteen years since the Darkness and Father had reconciled. Fifteen years since Heaven was reopened and eventually restored.

Twelve years since Castiel was suddenly promoted, now ranking amongst the archangels. Ten years since Michael had finally given Lucifer the go ahead to start an arrangement (some might have called it a deal) with Crowley, forming a loose partnership between Heaven and Hell. Nine years since that deal had been smoothed out and the full workings of the arrangement put to use.

Eight years since the first of the newborn fledglings appeared out of nowhere in the Garden. Six years since Lucifer had made the first, major, public space in Heaven for the souls. Five years since Lucifer had gotten tired of using paper archives and convinced Michael to upgrade to a more _sophisticated_ system ( _"Michael, there's nothing wrong with using computers or phones_ — _technology in general!"_ ). Two years since Gabriel had been brought back. One year since Sam and Dean arrived in Heaven.

So while, yes, it was a small yet special occasion, it was an occasion several years in the making.

Lucifer came out of his thoughts as the girl pouted at him (though the look was much too adorable on her to actually work), crossing her arms and looking away. He tilted his head to the side, a small smile adorning his lips as he made his way back into her line of sight.

"I'm sure you'll be able to get me something while we're there," he assured her.

Lillian seemed to mull this over, pursing her lips with a slight frown in a way that reminded Lucifer of Michael and Castiel. He made a mental note to confirm whether or not she was picking up the expression from either of them.

"Where's there?" she finally asked, her frown turning into a look of curiosity.

Instead of answering, Lucifer held out his hand to the girl. It a simple gesture that they had developed over the years, one that symbolized he wanted to take her somewhere. But before she could take his hand, he gave her a warning. "This will be different for you, and I'm asking you to trust me."

Intertwining her hand in his, she smiled at him, as if he were acting silly. "I've trusted you since the day we met, Luci."

Lucifer found himself momentarily stunned at the words. He'd never actually heard those words directed to him from her before, not words of trust. Love, faith, admiration – all of those, yes – but not trust. It warmed his grace to hear those words.

He took the human soul into his hands, holding her close. He then spread his wings and took off – his destination: Earth. To be more specific, Yosemite National Park in California, United States of America.

Lucifer helped guide Lillian's soul into a humanoid form and then gave her being more defined and physical properties (and clothes, couldn't forget those) – not necessarily a fully functioning human body but she wasn't a ghost or zombie either.

"Are we on Earth?" she asked excitedly as she took in her new surroundings. Lucifer knew it would feel different from Heaven, especially with the way her soul was currently on a physical plane.

"Yes," he answered, directing her attention to the sky.

The girl gasped at the view. The night sky easily visible without pollution or clouds to cover it. The stars twinkled and shined their brilliance, dazzling all who looked, and each constellation vividly marked out in their patterns on the canvas of night.

Lillian twirled slowly in a small circle, her smile shining as brightly as the stars above. The pendant he had gotten her swayed left and right before settling back over her heart. The gems glowed with a subtle power, a connection between the girl and the archangel.

After all, just making a piece of jewelry wasn't the only reason why he chose to make a pendant. He wanted something that he knew she would cherish as well as something she could keep on her person at all times... And a pendant was what Castiel recommended he make.

"This is Earth, the same year you met me," he continued. "I thought you'd like being in a familiar time. It's still Christmas though."

Lucifer found the girl's grin directed right at him. It would have been impossible to not match her smile. It was still amazing – after all this time – how she could warm his grace. And he wasn't blind to see how she brightened everyone's day. When Sam had brought up one day that not only did Lucifer dote on her but also Michael, Castiel and Gabriel, he hadn't denied the fact.

Snow had fallen during the day, the clouds clearing out by sunset (though he knew that more would come by morning). The entire forest was covered in a white blanket. Frosty flakes clung to the branches and bark of the coniferous and deciduous trees alike, and not far off in the distance, there was a running river that went past the mountain they stood on. Across the valley, the other mountains, laced with snow and ice, rose above the trees to touch the sky – one in particular looked as if it was a dome that had been cut in half. Which was rather accurate, as they were looking at what was titled the Half-Dome.

Lucifer walked Lillian through the winter wonderland. She laughed as she played in the snow. Occasionally, a snowball flew in his direction, and he dutifully sent one hurtling back her way after he brushed the white powder off of his jacket (and once, even his pants when her aim had been a little low), though he took care to make sure the impact of the projectiles wouldn't hurt her. At one point, they stopped for a few hours in an open clearing surrounded by evergreens. In those hours, several snowmen as well as two distinctive snow angels (with makeshift wings made from pine branches) came into being.

"This one's you, Luci!" Lillian exclaimed excitedly from where she stood beside one of the snowmen.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the product of the child's imagination. "Oh? Are you sure?" He asked, gaining a giggle from her as he eyed the snowman with a critical gaze. "I don't know, Lil. It looks more like Gabriel with how short it is—"

"But you're the same height as him," she blurted out in instant denial.

She clapped her gloved hands over her mouth as soon as the words slipped out, but it was too late. Lucifer had already scooped her up in his arms, lifting her onto his shoulders as she let out a squeal of surprise. From where she now sat upon his shoulders, she could clearly see all of the snowmen in glade.

Lucifer spun in a tight circle, using his hands to keep a firm grip on Lillian's legs to keep her balanced atop of him while her own hands were gripped loosely in his light auburn hair. When Lillian lightly pulled on his hair, guiding him away from the clearing, he obliged to the unspoken request, and he took them further into the forest, walking along the side of the slowly flowing, icy river.

"Lucifer?" she asked quietly.

Little snow flurries gently fell from the twilight sky, sticking to their hair and clothes as he continued to stroll within this white paradise. "Yes, little one?"

The affectionate moniker slipped from his lips without a thought. The two words were simply a nickname that he'd teased her with for the longest time, and now it was something more. A precious treasure of its own.

"Do you think that I would have been able to get in Heaven if I hadn't met you?"

Lucifer frowned slightly, briefly pausing in the middle of a step. "What do you mean?"

He felt the girl shift on his shoulders, nervously picking at his hair. "Like, if I had never got to meet you and didn't… die in that car accident and grew up and stuff, would I have gotten to go to Heaven?" she asked, rephrasing her words.

"Why would you ask of such things, Lil? You're here now. You did meet me, and you did ascend to Heaven," Lucifer told her, keeping the worry (but not concern) out of his voice.

"I just wanted to know," she mumbled into his hair.

Lucifer bit his lip, debating on whether or not to tell her. A puff of air left his mouth, the water particles freezing in a cloud of frost. "You would have made it even without me ever being involved in your life. Now!" he exclaimed, suddenly changing the subject and giving her a slight bounce, which made her giggle. "What do you say we find thing the source of this river, eh?"

Not an hour later, they came across a magnificent, frozen waterfall. Sheets of spiked ice hung like a curtain across the cliff face. The solid water sparkled as the clouds parted and a ray of the newly risen sun hit the ice's surface, dazzling them with a kaleidoscope of light.

Lucifer would give up everything if it meant that he could keep that smile on her face forever.

 **-oOo-**

"Cas!"

Castiel turned to the young girl who was running towards him. The angel held his stance firm as she crashed into him, wrapping him in her embrace. He noted that she was wearing a different outfit than her usual flower dress. Though he had to admit that the warm cardigan sweater that was layered over a white shirt went well with the matching hat and scarf, and those items corresponded in their pattern with her brown boots and black leggings.

Castiel had no doubt in his mind that Lucifer had given Lillian the outfit on their little trip to Earth. His older brother had planned the 'present' for months and apparently down to the last detail.

"How are you today, Lillian?" he greeted, returning the girl's hug.

She looked up at him with her bright brown eyes. "Cas, you gotta help me get Luci something!" she exclaimed, completely skipping over pleasantries.

Castiel tilted his head to the side slightly, mildly surprised at her request. It wasn't often, but she did come to him for some things, though that usually meant whatever they were about to do needed to be kept secret from the others until it was revealed later. He would gladly oblige to anything she asked – the requests always innocent and well-meant. "What do you have in mind?"

Lillian smiled that smile of hers and waved for him to move closer. Castiel leaned down so she could whisper her idea into his ear. When she had finished telling him, he mirrored her smile as best he could. "He'll love it."

 **-oOo-**

Lucifer turned the relatively small locket over in his hands. It was a simple thing, ovular in shape and didn't have any serious clasping mechanism to open it. But he could tell it was made of the same celestial metal that Lillian's pendant was, and the accented wings that adorned the jewelry piece wrapped intricately around a calligraphy of the letter _L_ , which was carved into the center of the piece.

Everyone was in the Bunker that was the Winchester brothers' heaven. Well, by everyone, Lucifer meant Sam and Dean (it was their heaven after all), John and Mary, Michael, Gabriel, Castiel, Lillian, her parents, and himself. While Lucifer had taken Lillian out for a special day as a present (not to mention the pendant), they still had to attend the little party that the Winchesters had insisted upon hosting for the holiday. And Lucifer happened to end up being the last one to open his present.

Blue eyes flicked back up to brown ones. "You made this?" he asked. Surprise, shock – whichever it was – it was mixed with no small amount of happiness.

"Well," she began to answer shyly.

"Technically, _Castiel_ _and_ _I_ made it," Gabriel cut in with a sniff when Lillian didn't continue. "But it was the squirt's idea."

Lucifer was once again surprised to see Lillian blush and look away. "It's beautiful, little one."

"Open it," came to the two quiet words.

Lucifer blinked, looking back down at the locket that sat in his hand. After another moment passed, Dean's voice reached his ears. "Come on, man. Hurry up and show us what's inside already." A soft _oof_ was heard as Sam elbowed his brother, but Lucifer ignored it in favor of doing as he was told.

There was the quietest of clicks, and the two parts of the locket gently opened. This was when Lucifer understood that this wasn't an ordinary locket. While in the lockets he'd seen before, there usually resided a picture of loved one and possibly the initials of the owner or giver. But as a small figure popped up from the flat surfaces of the two sides, Lucifer knew that magic and grace had been imbued into this piece of jewelry.

Said figure was him with Lillian atop his shoulders – it was from when he'd taken her to the snow laden forests of the Yosemite park, he quickly realized. The two were moving, the one of himself obviously walking and Lillian smiling and laughing. That alone made a smile of his own creep across his face.

"Whoa," Sam softly exclaimed, though Lucifer was too caught up in watching the image to pay attention to what the younger Winchester was doing. "How does it work?"

"It's just a bit of magic and a hint of grace. The grace so it won't ever break or be able to be destroyed, and the magic to give it… life," Gabriel explained just as softly, trying not to shatter the entranced air that lay over his older brother.

"But how does it _work_?" Sam repeated, not even bothering to mask his awe.

"What— you've never seen something like this before?" Gabriel scoffed.

Castiel nudged his friend to gain Sam's attention before he gestured to the image hovering just above the open locket. "That image is a snippet of a memory. That brief moment was recorded with magic and then placed inside the locket."

"So it's like a multicolored hologram of short video clips?"

"If that is the _scientific_ term that they use on Earth nowadays, then yes," was the reluctant affirmation.

"Can the locket hold more than one?" Dean spoke up, making sure to match the hushed tones.

Castiel gave the older Winchester brother a small smile. "There are already several within the locket currently."

Lucifer seemed to register the softly spoken statement. He reached for the image with his free hand, and with the slightest of pauses, he gently swiped across the image. The two small figures faded into nothing, but not a moment later, the same two came back. This time, however, the small figure of himself was lounging on an unseen hill, and Lillian's sat upright as she looked upwards in wonder at little pink dots falling from the 'sky'. In her hands was a beautiful red rose.

Lucifer blinked at the image. It was from the second place he'd taken her that day– Not long after the frozen waterfall, he'd flown them to a botanical gardens in Brooklyn, New York. And while he'd also flown them forward in time so that the flowers would be in full bloom, Lillian hadn't minded. They had stopped to rest in the shade of several cherry trees, and as the pink petals drifted down to settle on them and on the ground around them, Lucifer had snapped a rose into existence and given it to Lil.

He swiped on to the next image, which showed only himself this time. A smile was plastered on his figure's face. There were Mickey Mouse ears on his head as well as an eye patch over his left eye. In the figure's hands were two objects: a bag of pastries and an autograph book full of pages signed by all of Lil's favorite Disney characters as well as a few more. Another image from the same day when he had then taken her to the Magic Kingdom in Disney World for a few hours.

The next image was different in that the event had taken place a while back. It was an image of Lillian, her mother and father, and himself. While her parents hadn't immediately taken a liking to Lucifer, they had eventually accepted his presence in Lillian's afterlife. This image was from when he had brought them to a (then brand new) public space in Heaven for an exclusive first look as he had yet to actually open it to the public soul population then. Lucifer specifically remembered Lillian's mother taking him to the side and thanking him when he'd brought them back to their personal heaven.

He really shouldn't have been surprised by the next one. Of course she would put an image of when they first met in the locket. Lillian's small figure's legs swung back and forth as she sat on the park bench, and Lucifer's figure was hunched over but looking hopeful. It was clear that the snippet of the memory was from the tail end of their conversation.

The last image made his breath catch.

"Hey, it's us," Lucifer heard Dean state in description of what they all obviously recognized in the largest image.

"So it would seem," Michael said in response. "And it's from not too long ago either."

"Isn't that when we were all at the Roadhouse for Lillian's birthday?" Mary asked from where she sat next to John.

"Looks like it," John answered, an arm wrapped around Mary's shoulders.

"I didn't realize we had all stood like that at any point," Lillian's father mused, his position in the room was beside his wife, almost mirroring John and Mary. "It looks almost like we're posing for a picture."

"We hadn't stood like that at all," Lillian's mother told her husband. "I do believe that _someone_ —" she looked pointedly at Gabriel "—'photoshopped' us all from different parts of that day and assembled us all into one picture worthy shot."

"Very astute, Mrs. Dawson," Gabriel applauded her with a snap of his fingers that made confetti sprinkle down from above her head.

She merely shook her head and rolled her eyes at the archangel. "How many times have I told you to call me Eliza or Liz?"

"Only every time I've called you that since we were introduced," he answered cheekily with a broad smile.

"It's okay, hon," her husband assured her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "You've got forever to break him out of it."

"Don't encourage him, Chris," Elizabeth muttered, poking her husband in the side.

"Still, you have to admit, it's a magnificent piece of work," Christopher Dawson pointed out, carefully steering his wife's attention back to the locket.

Everyone looked back to the signature pair in the room. Lillian was wrapped in an embrace initiated by Lucifer, who whispered in the young girl's ear, "Thank you… for everything."

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 **A/N: Well, I loved putting those fluff-tasitc feels out there (the only reason it's a Christmas one-shot is because this is what I happened to be writing while on a two week vacation in California for the holidays instead of writing that next chapter for my _Lucifer_ fic, _City of Angels_ [then school started, and there just happened to be a snow day on the first week of school, and so I was inspired to finish this instead of doing school work or writing another chapter for _CoA_ ]). My teeth are hurting from writing something this sweet, ****and I really** **didn't** **mean for it to go this long, lol.** **But, really, do you folks think this was up to par with** _ **Light of Dawn**_ **?**

 **Just a little background for my OCs:** **Lillian Dawson's birthday is on December 12, 2009 (basing on the fact that she was like seven when she and Lucifer first met), which would have made her 22-ish in this if she hadn't (you know) died. So this one-shot is about fifteen years since the first chapter of** _**LoD**_ _ **–**_ **sometime in** **2016, making the 'now' of this chapter 2031. And you people finally got to meet Lillian's parents. I thought it'd be cool to include them at some point, and that last scene was just asking for the part. And no, I didn't have a specific reason to pick Elizabeth and Christopher as Lillian's parent's names** ** _–_ I mean, sort of but not really. You'll find out more about them eventually... maybe.**

 **About Future Updates: Additions to this part of the work will be _very_ sporadic and may possibly be literally months apart. They also won't be in any specific order according to time passage. For example, this one is fifteen years since the Epilogue of _Light of Dawn_ , but my next update could be about something during the twelve year lull/time skip in Chapter 10. Anyways, until next time!**

Last edited: [March 10, 2018]

* * *

 **On the down low, I kinda want to put some responses to any reviews that have come since the completion (do note that, please) of Light of Dawn. One of my new year resolutions was to try to start responding to the reviews, and since some you are guests, it's really only fair to put those responses here (and really, I'm going to put them all down here)... I really hope this doesn't go against the guidelines (I mean, technically, it's not breaking the rules) and make me take this down or something. But I digress, back to those responses:**

 **Pam (guest) [1/11/7]:** I'm glad I was able to fix that for you (all of you). I was trying to explain what happened to a friend of mine and got this horrifying realization that I had no idea how long that chapter 10 had been messed up and that I probably wouldn't have known for a lot longer if you hadn't mentioned it, so I have to thank you again. I'm also glad that you thought Gabriel handled being back was with his usual finesse. I was never really happy with the scene as I felt it was a little too forgiving on Gabriel's end. To me (as I was writing and going over it), there was always that possibility of Gabriel holding a grudge, but that's kind of what lead to that whole mess of Lucifer's downfall in the first place, so I didn't have it that way, but who knows. (Maybe I could explore that later...)

 **Deja Vu 22 [1/11/17]:** I didn't really think I'd leave one here for you because I was considering just leaving you a PM, but thank you for being here since— what was it? chapter 4-ish. It's always great to see you leave a review or follow/favorite/be there. I know that I have at least one person that likes what I write, lol.

 **RynnaWynne [2/1/17]:** I'm glad you enjoyed my story. Thank you for reading and reviewing. It's the little things like this that make my day :)

 **bbonin [8/28/17]:** (Ch3 - 3:09pm Central Time Zone or GMT+5) I'm glad you're liking it, and I hope you liked it all the way through to this point :)


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